™Movieboys 
easide Park. 


by Victor Appleton 

















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The Movie Boys 
at Seaside Park 


OR 


The Rival Photo Houses 
of the Boardwalk 


BY 


VICTOR APPLETON 


Author of “The Movie Boys inthe Jungle,” “The 
Movie Boys’ First Showhouse,” “The 
Movie Boys Under Fire,” etc. 





GarpeEn City New York 
GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, Inc. 
1926 


THE FAMOUS MOVIE BOYS 
SERIES 


BY 
VICTOR APPLETON 












See back of book for list of tttles 





COPYRIGHT, 1913, 1926, BY 
GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC. 


THE MOVIE BOYS 
AT SEASIDE PARK 


CHAPTER I 
LOOKING FOR BUSINESS 


“ Boys, this is just the spot we are looking 
LOE. 

“Yes, [ am sure a good photo playhouse on 
this boardwalk would pay.” 

It was Frank Durham who made the first dec- 
laration and his chum and young partner, Randy 
Powell, who echoed it. Both looked like lads in 
business earnestly looking for something they 
wanted, and determined to find it. Then the 
third member of the little group glanced where 
his companions were gazing. He was Pepperill 
Smith, and he burst forth in his enthusiastic 
way: | 
“The very thing!” 

The three chums had arrived at Seaside Park 
only that morning. Their home was at Fair- 
lands, one hundred and fifty miles west. 
Everything was new to them and there was cer- 


tainly enough variety, excitement and commo- 
zr 


2. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE, PARK 


tion to satisfy any lively lad. They had, how- 
ever, come for something else than pleasure. 
They had a distinct purpose in view, and Frank’s 
remarks brought it up. 

Seaside Park was a very popular ocean resort. 
It was a trim little town with a normal popula- 
tion of less than three thousand souls. In the 
summer season, however, it provided for over ten 
times that number. A _ substantial boardwalk 
fronted the beach where people bathed, lined with 
stores, booths, and curio and souvenir tents. 
There were several restaurants for the conveni- 
ence of those who had run down from the big 
cities to take a day’s enjoyment and did not care 
to stay at the pretentious hotels. 

The three friends had made for this part of 
the resort as soon as they had arrived. As they 
had strolled down the boardwalk Frank had stu- 
diously observed the general layout and the points 
where the pleasure-seekers most congregated. 
Randy was quite as much interested in peering in 
at the windows of the few buildings bearing “ To 
Rent” signs. Pep made a deliberate stop where- 
ever a show place attracted his attention. Now 
all three had halted in front of an unoccupied 
building and were looking it over critically. 

“T say, fellows,” observed Frank, “this is 
worth looking into.” 


LOOKING FOR BUSINESS 3 


** It’s certainly a fine location,’ added Randy. 

“Just made for us,” piped the exuberant Pep. 

The building was frame and one story in 
height. It was of ample breadth, and as the brisk 
and busy Pep squinted down its side he declared 
it was over one hundred feet long. Randy went 
up to the chalked-over windows, while Frank 
took out a card and copied the name and address 
of the owner given on the rent sign. 

“Hi, this way!’ suddenly hailed the active 
Pep. “The door isn’t locked.” 

“That’s great,” spoke Randy. “I want to 
see what the inside looks like.” 

* Hello, there!” called out a man’s voice as 
they stepped over the threshold of the broad 
double doorway. 

*‘ Hello yourself, mister,” retorted Pep cheer- 
ily, “ we were sort of interested in the place and 
wanted to look it over.” 

Frank stepped forward. The man who had 
challenged them was in his shirt sleeves, work- 
ing at a plank over two wooden horses mending 
some wire screens. 

* We are looking over the beach with the idea 
of finding a good location for a show,’ Frank 
explained. : 

“What kind of a show?” inquired the man, 
studying the trio sharply. 


4 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“ Motion picture.” 

“Well, you've come to the right place, I can 
tell you that,” declared the man, showing more 
interest and putting aside the screen he was 
mending. ‘Pretty young, though, for business 
on your own hook; aren’t you?” 

“Oh, we're regular business men, we are,” 
vaunted Pep. ‘“ This is Frank Durham, and this 
is Randolph Powell. The three of us ran a 
photo playhouse in Fairlands for six months, so 
we know the business.” 

“Is thet so?” observed the man musingly. 
Well, I’m the owner of the building here and 
as you see, want to find a good tenant for the 
season. I’m mending up the screens to those 
ventilating windows. I’m going to redecorate it | 
inside and out, and the place is right in the center 
of the busiest part of the beach.” 

“What was it used for before?” inquired 
Frank. 

“Bowling alley, once. Then a man tried an 
ice cream parlor, but there was too much compe- 
tition. Last season.a man put in a penny arcade, 
but that caught only the cheap trade and not 
much of that.” 

Frank walked to the end of the long room 
and looked over the lighting equipment, the floor 
and the ceiling. Then he nodded to Randy and 


LOOKING FOR BUSINESS 5 
Pep, who joined him at a window, as if looking 
casually over the surroundings of the vacant 
place. 

** See here, fellows,’ Frank said, “it looks as 
though we had stumbled upon a fine opportu- 
nity.” 

“Splendid!” voiced Randy. 

“It strikes me just right,’ approved Pep. 
“What a dandy place we can make of it, with 
all this space! Why, we'll put three rows of 
seats, the middle one double. There’s all kinds 
of space on the walls for posters. Ill have to 
get an assistant usher and——” 

“Hold on, Pep!” laughed Frank. “ Aren’t 
you going pretty fast? The rent may be ’way out 
of our reach. You know we are not exactly 
millionaires, and our limited capital may not come 
anywhere near covering things.”’ 

“Find out what the rent is; won't you, 
Frank?” pressed Randy. 

“There’s no harm in that,” replied Frank. 

He went up to the owner of the place while — 
Randy and Pep strolled outside. They walked 
around the building twice, studying it in every 
particular. Randy looked eager and Pep excited 
as Frank came out on the sidewalk. They could 
tell from the pleased look on his face that he 
was the bearer of good news. 





6 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


‘“‘ What is it, Frank?” queried Randy, anx- 
iously. 

“ The rent isn’t half what I expected it to be.” 

nGood!"? cried: Pep: 

** But it’s high enough to consider in a careful 
way. Then again the owner of the building in- 
sists that nothing but a strictly first-class show will 
draw patronage at Seaside Park. The people who 
come here are generally of a superior type and the 
transients come from large places where they 
have seen the best going in the way of phote 
plays. It’s going to cost a lot of money to start 
a playhouse here, and we can’t decide in a mo- 
ment.”’ 

“How many other motion picture shows are 
there in Seaside Park, Frank?” inquired Pep. 

* None.” 

Both Randy and Pep were surprised at this 
statement and told Frank so. 

“The movies tried it out in connection with a 
restaurant last season, but made a fizzle of it, 
the man in there tells me,” reported Frank. “ He 
says there may be a show put in later in the sea- 
son—you see we are pretty early on the scene 
and the summer rush has not come yet. In fact, 
he hinted that some New York fellows were 
down here last week looking over the prospects © 
in our line. I’ve told him just how we are situ- 
ated, and I think he has taken quite a liking to us 


LOOKING FOR BUSINESS 7 


and would like to encourage us if it didn’t cost 
him, anything. He says he will give us until 
Monday to figure up and decide what we want 
to do. There's one thing, though—we will have 
to put up the rent for the place for the whole 
season.” 

“ What—in advance?’ exclaimed Randy. 

“Yes—four months. It seems that one or two 
former tenants left their landlord in the lurch 
and he won't take any more risks. Cash or the 
guarantee of some responsible person is the way 
this man, Mr. Morton, puts in.” 

“Humph!” commented Pep. “ Why doesn’t 
he make us buy the place and be done with it?”’ 

“ Well, if we start in we're going to stick; 
arent we?” propounded Randy. “So it’s sim- 
ply a question of raising enough money.” 

“Mr. Morton says that along Beach Row 
there is nothing in the way of first-class amuse- 
ments,’ Frank went on. “ There’s a merry-go- 
round and a summer garden with a band and 
some few cheap side shows.” ~ 

“Then we would have the field all to our- 
selves,” submitted Randy. 

“Unless a business rival came along, which 
he won't, unless we are making money, so the ~ 
more the merrier,’ declared Frank, briskly. 
“We'll talk the whole business over this even- 
ing, fellows. In the meantime we'll take in the 


8. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


many sights and post ourselves on the prospects.” 

““T do hope we'll be able to get that place,” 
siad Pep, longingly. “ What a fine view we have! 
I'd never get tired of being in sight of the sea 
and all this gay excitement around us.” 

The chums left the boardwalk and went across 
the sands, watching the merry crowds playing on 
the beach and running out into the water. Big 
and little, old and young, seemed to be full of 
fun and excitement. Early in the season as it 
was, there were a number of bathers. 

‘That would make a fine motion picture; eh?” 
suggested Randy, his mind always on business. 

“Yes, and so would that!” shou es 
“Jumping crickets! Fellows—look!’ 

There had sounded a sharp explosion. ‘At a 
certain spot a great cascade of water like the 
spouting of a whale went up into the air. ‘A’ hiss 
of steam focussed in a whirling, swaying mass at 
one point. There was the echo of yells and 
screams. 

“What's happened, I wonder 
Randy. 

‘‘T saw it!” interrupted an excited bather, 
who had ran out of the water. “ A! motor boat 
has blown up!” 

“Then those on board must be in danger of 
burning or drowning, boys,” shouted Frank. 


>? 


“To the rescue! 





began 


CHAPTER II 
THE MOTOR BOAT 


FRANK DuRHAM was just as practical as he 
was heroic. While the frightened people in the 
water were rushing up the beach in a panic, and 
strollers along the sands stared helplessly toward 
the scene of the accident, Frank’s quick eye took 
in the situation—and in a flash he acted. 

There was a reason why he was so ready- 
witted. In the first place he—and also Randy 
and Pep—had for an entire season been in ac- 
tual service at the outing resort near their home 
town of Fairlands. It had been an experience 
that fitted them for just such a crisis as the 
present one. Boating on the lake had been the 
principal diversion of the guests. There had 
been more than one tip-over in which Frank and 
his chums had come to the rescue. 

In fact, while the boys had regular duties, 
such as acting as caddies for golfers, as guides 
and chauffeurs, the proprietor of the resort ex- 
pected them to keep an eye out at all times for 
mishaps to his guests. This had trained the 
chums in a line where common sense, speedy ac- 

9 


10 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


tion, and knowing how to do just the right thing 
at just the right time, would be useful in safe- 
guarding property and human life. 

Frank did not have to tell his companions 
what to do. They knew their duty and how far 
they could be useful, as well as their leader. 
The motor boat was about a quarter of a mile 
out and was on fire. They could see the flames 
belching out at the stern. There seemed to be ~ 
three or four persons aboard. As far as they 
could make it out at the distance they were, one 
of the passengers had sprung overboard and was 
floating around on a box or plank. ‘The others 
were crowded together at the bow, trying to keep 
away from the flames. 

Randy had dashed down the beach to where 
there was a light rowboat overturned on the 
sand. Pep was making for-a long pier running 
out quite a distance, pulling off his coat as he 
went. Frank had his eyes fixed upon a small 
electric launch lying near the pier. He did not 
know nor notice what course his chums had 
taken. He realized that if help came to the peo- 
ple in peril on the motor boat it must come 
speedily to be of any avail.’ 

It took Frank less than three minutes to reach 
“the spot where a light cable held the launch 
against the pier. A rather fine-looking old man 


THE MOTOR BOAT If 


stood nearby, glancing through his gold-rimmed 
eyeglasses toward the beach, as if impatient of 
something. 

“Mister,” shot out Frank, breathlessly, “is 
this your craft?” 

“It is,” replied the gentleman. “I am wait- 
ing for my man to come and run me down to 
Rock Point.” | 

“Did you see that?” inquired Frank, rapidly, 
pointing to the burning motor boat. 

“Why, I declare—I hadn't!” exclaimed the 
man, taking a survey of the point in the distance 
indicated by Frank. ‘“‘ What can have hap- 
pened?” 

“An explosion, sir,” explained Frank. ‘“ You 
see, they must have help.” 

“Where is that laggard man of mine?” cried 
the owner of the launch, growing excited. “If 
he would come we might do something.” 

“Let me take your launch,” pressed Frank, 
eagerly. 

“Do you know how to run it?” 

"Oh; yes, sir.” 

“I don’t. Do your best, lad. You must 
hurry. The boat is burning fiercely.” 

It only needed the word of assent ‘to start 
Frank on his’ mission of rescue. There had 
never been a better engineer on the lake near 


{2 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


Fairlands than our hero. He was so perfectly 
at home with a launch that the owner of the 
one he had immediately sprung into could not 
repress a “Bravo”! as Frank seemed to slip the 
painter, spring to the wheel and send the craft 
plowing the water like a fish, all with one and 
the same deft movement. 

Frank estimated time and distance and set the 
launch on a swift, diagonal course. He made out 
a rowboat headed in the same direction as him- 
self, and Randy was in it. Frank saw a flying 
form leave the end.of the long pier in a bold 
dive. [It was Pep. Frank could not deviate or 
linger, for the nearer he got to the blazing craft 
the more vital seemed the peril of those now. 
nearly crowded overboard by the heat and 
smoke. Besides that, he knew perfectly well 
that the crack swimmer of Fairlands, his friend 
Pep, could take care of himself in the water. 

It was because the three chums were always 
together and always on the alert that nothing 
missed them. Some pretty creditable things had 
been done by them and that training came to 
their help in the present crisis. 

(In another volume of this series, entitled, 
“The Movie Boys’ First Showhouse”’; or ‘‘ Fighting 
for a Foothold in Fairlands,” their adventures and 
experiences have been given in a way that showed 


THE MOTOR BOAT 13 


the courage and enterprise that infused them. 
Frank Durham was the elder of the trio, and it 
was he who had started a partnership that soon 
outgrew odd chores about Fairlands and making 
-themselves handy around the lake during the 
outing season. 

Early in the Fall preceding, after a great deal 
of thinking, planning and actual hard work, 
Frank, Randy and Pep had become proprietors 
of a motion picture show at Fairlands. It had 
been no play-day spurt, but a practical business 
effort. They had worked hard for nearly a year, 
had saved up quite a sum, and learning of the 
auction sale of a photo playhouse outfit in the 
city, they had bid it in and started the “ Wonder- 
land” in the busy little town where they lived. 

In this they had been greatly helped by a good- 
hearted, impulsive fellow named Ben Jolly. The 
latter was in love with the novel enterprise, liked 
the boys, and played the piano. Another of his 
kind who was a professional ventriloquist, had 
plied his art for the benefit of the motion picture 
show, delaying the auction sale with mock bids 
until Frank arrived in time to buy the city outfit. 

They had enemies, too, and the son of a Fair- 
lands magnate named Greg Grayson had caused 
them a good deal of trouble and had tried to 
break up their show. Perseverance, hard work 


14 PICTURE CHUMS MAT SEASIDE PARE 


and brains, however, carried the motion picture 
chums through. They exhibited none but 
high-grade films, they ran an orderly place, and 
with Frank at the projector, Randy in the ticket 
booth, Pep as the genial usher and Ben Jolly as 
pianist, they had crowded houses and wound up 
at the end of the season out of debt and with a 
small cash capital all their own. 

For all the busy Winter, warm weather hurt 
the photo playhouse at Fairlands. It had been a 
debated question with the chums for some weeks 
as to shutting down for the summer months. 
They finally decided to “close for repairs” for 
a spell and look around for a new location until 
fall. Seaside Park was suggested as an ideal 
place for a first-class motion picture show, and 
. so far prospects looked very encouraging, in- 
deed. 

Right in the midst of their business delibera- 
tions the incident just related had now come up. 
All three of the boys had answered the call of 
humanity without an instant’s hesitation. 

Frank forgot everything except the business in 
hand as he set eyes, mind and nerve upon reach- 
ing the burning motor boat in time to be of 
some practical service. He was near enough now 
to pretty well grasp the situation, The launch 
had been going at a high rate of speed, but the 


THE MOTOR BOAT 15 


expert young cngineer set the lever another 
notch forward, and sent the craft slipping 
through the water like a dolphin. 

The man in charge of the burning boat, Frank 
saw, had a pan with a handle. He was dipping 
this into the water and throwing its contents 
against the blazing after-part of the boat. Some 
gasoline or other inflammable substance, how- 
ever, seemed to burn all the more fiercely for this 
deluge, and the man had to shrink farther and 
farther away as the flames encroached upon him. 

A portly lady was shrieking constantly and 
waving her arms in a state of terror. It was 
all that a younger woman, the other passenger, 
could do to hold her in her seat and restrain her 
from jumping overboard. 

Frank had just a passing glance for the other 
actor in the scene. This was the fellow he had 
seen leap overboard when the boat blew up. He 
was somewhat older than Frank, and having cast 
adrift a box,. the only loose article aboard that 
would serve to act as a float, he had drifted 
safely out of reach of the flames. 

““He’s a coward, besides being a cad,” invol- 
untarily flashed through Frank’s mind. Then he 
made the launch swerve, and shouted to the occu: 
pants of the motor boat: 

* All ready!” 


10 PICTURE. CHUMS AT SEASIDE Paks 


Frank, with his experience of the past, cal- 
culated so nicely that the launch came alongside — 
the burning motor boat at precisely the right 
angle to allow the man in charge of the latter 
craft to grapple with a boat-hook. 

“ Ouick, Mrs. Carrington,” he spoke to the 
older lady, “get aboard the launch as fast as 
you can.” | 

The woman’s girl .companion helped her get 
to her feet, but she pitched about so that but 
for a clever movement on the part of Frank 
she would have gone into the water. 

** Oh, dear! oh, dear!’’ she screamed, but with 
the aid of the younger woman Frank managed 
to get her into the launch, where she dropped in 
a heap and went into hysterics. Her companion 
got aboard more quietly. 

“You are just in time,” gasped the man in 
charge of the motor boat. “ Don’t risk the 
flames, but pull away.” 

“Yes, there is nothing to be done in the way 
of putting out the fire,” said Frank. ; 

The man he spoke to was both worried and 
fin pain. His face and hands were blistered from 
his efforts to shield his passengers from the fire. 
Just then a howl rang out. It proceeded from 
the fellow thirty feet away, bobbing up and 
down on the empty box. ‘This brought the older 
woman to her senses. 


THE MOTOR BOAT 17 


“Tt is Peter!” she screamed. ‘Oh, savé 
Peter!” 

The paltry Peter began bellowing with deadly 
fear as the launch was headed away from him | 
Frank could not feel very charitable toward a 
fellow who, in the midst of peril, had left 
friends, probably relatives, to'their fate. How- 
ever, he started to change the course of the 
launch, when Pep, swinging one arm over the 
other in masterly progress like the fine swimmer 
he always had been, crossed the bow of the 
craft. 

“Till take care of him,” shouted Pep to 
Frank, “and here’s Randy in the skiff.” 

Frank saw Randy making for the spot, and as 
Pep grasped the side of the floating box the skiff 
‘came alongside. 3 

“Hold on! Stop that other boat,” blubbered 
the young fellow. ‘‘I want to go ashore in a 
safe rig; I want to get to my aunt.” 

“What did you leave her for?” demanded 
Pep, firing up. , 

“Huh! Think I want to get drowned?” 
whimpered the other. 

Pep helped the scared youth into the skiff, 
drew himself over its edge, and directed just one 
remark to the rescued lad. 

* Say!” he observed, indignantly. “I'd just 
like to kick you.” 


CHAPTER III 
SHORT OF FUNDS 


FRANK drove the motor launch shoreward 
with accuracy and speed. The stout lady had 
shrieked and acted as if half mad until she had 
been assured that Peter was safe. She had to 
see with her own eyes that Peter had been pulled 
into the rowboat with Randy and Pep. Then 
she collapsed again. 

While she lay limp and exhausted, the young 
lady with her mopped her head with a handker- 
chief and fanned her. The engineer of the 
motor boat had got near to Frank. He looked 
pale and distressed. He kept his eye fixed on the 
sinking motor boat for a time. 

** That’s the last of her,” he remarked, with a 
sigh, 

“Yes,” responded Frank, “‘we couldn’t do 
anything toward saving her.” 

“J should think not. I tell you, if you hadn’t 
known your business I don’t know what would 
have happened to us. Mrs. Carrington was en- 


tirely unmanageable, her companion can’t swim, 
18 


SHORT OF FUNDS 19 


and of course I wouldn’t leave them to perish.’’ 

“The stout lady is Mrs. Carrington, I sup- 
pose?” asked Frank. 

“That’s right.” 

*‘ And Peter, I suppose, is the brave young man 
who jumped overboard with the float? ”’ 

“ He is her nephew, and a precious kind of a 
relative he is!” said the motor boat man, and his 
face expressed anger and disgust. ‘‘ He would 
smoke those nasty cigarettes of his and throw 
the stubs where he liked. Honestly, I believe it 
was one of those that started the fire.” 

“He hasn’t shown himself to be very valiant 
or courageous,’ commented Frank. 

There was a great crowd at the beach near the 
shore end of the pier where the launch landed. 
The skiff holding Randy, Pep and their dripping 
and shivering companion glided to the same spot 
as an officer saw that the launch was secured. 
He stared down in an undecided way at the help- 
less Mrs. Carrington. Peter, safe and sound 
now, leaped aboard the launch with the assur- 
ance of an admiral. : 

“Hey, officer,’ he hailed the man, “ get a con- 
veyance for the party as quick as you can.” 

“Suppose you do it yourself?”’ growled the 
motor boat man, looking as if he would like to 
give Peter a good thrashing. 


20° PICTURE CHUMS VAT SHASIDE PARK 


“Me? In this rig? Oh, dear, no!’ retorted 
the shocked. Peter. “‘ ve got five suits of clothes 
home. Really, I ought to send for one. Don’t 
know what the people at Catalpa Terrace will say 
‘to see me coming home looking like a drowned 
rat, don’t you know,’ and Peter grinned in a 
silly, self-important way. 

*‘He makes me sick!” blurted out the motor 
boat man. 

The young lady who was ‘euphetaee Mrs. Car- 
rington leaned toward Frank. Her face ex- 
pressed the respect and admiration she felt for 
their rescuer. 

‘We can never thank you enough for your 
prompt service,’ she said, in a voice that trem- 
bled a trifle from excitement. 

“T am glad I was within call,” replied Frank, 
modestly. 

* Won't you kindly give me your name?” 
quired the young lady. “I am Miss Porter, and 
I am companion to Mrs. Carrington. I know her 
ways so well, that I am sure the first thing she 
will want to know when she becomes herself 
again is the name of her brave rescuer.” 

“My name is Frank Durham,’ replied our 
hero. ‘My chums in the little boat are Ran- 
dolph Powell and Pepperill Smith.” 

**So you live here at Seaside Park? Where 


SHORT OF FUNDS 21 


can Mrs. Carrington send you word, for I am 
positive she will wish to see you?” 

“We may stay here until to-morrow—I can- 
not tell,” explained Frank. “If we do, I think 
we will be at the Beach Hotel.” | 

The young lady had a small writing tablet with 
a tiny pencil attached, secured by a ribbon at her 
waist. She made some notations. Then she ex- 
tended her hand and grasped Frank’s with the 
fervency of a grateful and appreciative person. 
Then an auto cab drew up at the end of the pier, 
the officer summoned help, and Mrs. Carrington 
was lifted from the launch. Frank assisted Miss 
Porter, and Peter, apparently fancying himself 
an object of admiration to all the focussed eyes 
of the crowd, disappeared into the automobile. 

“Hey!” yelled Pep after him, doubling his 
fists. “Thank you!” 

The motor boat man grasped Frank’s hand 
with honest thankfulness in his eyes. 

“T shan’t forget you very soon,” he said with — 
genuine feeling. | 

“Did the.boat belong to you?” asked Frank. 

“Yes, I own two motor boats here,” explained 
the man, “and run them for just such parties as 
you see.” 

“The explosion will cause you some money 
loss.” 


22) PICTURE: CHUMS)| AT SEASIDE Are 


“T hardly think so,’ answered the man. 
*“‘ Mrs. Carrington is a rich woman, they say, and 
she is quite liberal, too. I think she will do the 
tight thing and not leave all the loss on a poor 
man like myself.” 

“Get the skiff back where you found it, 
Randy,” directed Frank. “I will be with you 
soon,’ and he started the launch back for the 
spot where he had been allowed to use it by its 
owner. 3 | 

A chorus of cheers followed him. Glancing 
across the pier, Frank noted the owner of the 
motor boat surrounded by a crowd and being 
interviewed by two young fellows who looked 
like newspaper reporters. One of them parted 
‘the throng suddenly and ran along the pier, fo- 
cussing a camera upon the launch. He took a 
snap shot and waved his hand with an admiring 
gesture at its operator. 

“Young man, I don’t know when I have been 
so pleased and proud,’ observed the owner of 
the launch as Frank drove up to the pier where 
he stood. ‘I’m glad I had my boat at hand and 
as bright and smart a fellow as you to run it 
just in the nick of time.” 

Frank felt pleased over his efforts to be help- — 
ful to others. He was too boyish and ingenu- 
ous not to suffer some embarrassment as he 












passed flute groups staring after him. Such re- 
om marks as “That’s him!’ “There he goes!” Ae 
“Plucky fellow!” and the like greeted his hear- a 
ing and made‘him blush consciously. 3 


great rate. ree 
_ “What’s the trouble, Pep?’ hailed Frank, 
“Trouble! Say, whenever I think of my ame 
Be chance to duck that cheap cad we took aboard ha 
& ‘the skiff I want to lam myself. ‘Jumped over- = 
ay to hurry for help,’ he claimed. Then oe 








Pp ee 





Ve That suits,” nodded Randy. “The man of- 


24 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK — 


fered a double room on the top floor for a dollar, 
and we can pick up our meals outside.” 

The three chums concluded the arrangement at 
the Beach Hotel. Fortunately each had brought, 
an extra suit of clothes on his journey, and Pep 
was placed in comfortable trim once more. Then 
they sallied forth again to make a tour of the 
parts of the little town they had not previously 
visited. : 

** Just look at the crowds right within a stone’s 
throw of the place we are thinking of renting,” 
said Pep, as quite naturally they wandered back 
to the empty store so suited to their purposes and 
so desired by each. 

“Yes, and it keeps up from almost daybreak 
clear up to midnight,” declared Randy. ‘“‘ Why, 
Frank, we could run three shifts four hours each. 
Just think of it—twelve shows a day. Say, it 
would be a gold mine!” 

“J agree with you that it looks very prom- 
ising,” decided Frank. “We must do some close 
figuring, fellows.” 

“Let’s go inside and look the building over 
again,” suggested Pep, and this they did. 

“Why, hello!” instantly exclaimed the owner. 
*¢ Back again? ” 

“Yes, Mr. Morton,” replied Frank, pleasantly. 

** Shake!” cried the old fellow, dropping a 



















‘oS He A, iat 
geaae Rg has oi See 
SZ A, ri i | S 
coi ee 8: ij a! a, ? 
~, te . :) 





25 Sel eka 


ach of his ae visitors. ‘“‘ You’re some 
luck, the three of you. That was the neatest 
round-up I ever saw. What you been before? 
Life saving service?” 

_ “Why, hardly——” began Frank. 

“Well, you got those people off that burning 
motor boat slicker than I ever saw it done be- 
fore. Look here, lads, business is business, and I 
~ have to hustle too hard for the dollars to take 
any risks, but I like the way you do things, and ; 
if I can help you figure out how you may take ae 
Coline on the ee here and make es a 








2 eT han you,’ bowed Frank. 
“Oh, I do so hope we can make it!” ex- 


Then they found them- 
_ Their 





od view ie oe sea for miles, The chums 


26: PICTURE, CHUMS) AT’ SEASIDE. (PARK 


ranged their chairs so as to catch the cool breeze 
coming off the water, forming a half-circle about 
an open window. 

Frank had been pretty quiet since they had last 
seen the vacant store, leaving Randy and Pep to 
do the chattering. They knew their business 
chum had been doing some close calculating and 
they eagerly awaited his first word. 

“Tell you, fellows,’ finally spoke their leader 
in an offhand but serious way, “‘ ve turned and 
twisted about all the many corners to this big 
proposition before us, and it’s no trivial respon- 
sibility for amateurs like us.” 

“We made good at Fairlands; didn’t we?” 
challenged Pep. 

“That is true,” admitted Frank, ** but remem- 
ber our investment there wasn’t heavy; we didn't 
have to go into debt, expenses were light, we 
were right among friends who wanted to encour- 
age us, and we had free board at home.” 

“That’s so,’ murmured Randy, with a long- 
drawn sigh. | 

“Tf we start in here at Seaside Park,” 
went on Frank, “‘ we have got to fix up right up 
to date or we'll find ourselves nowhere in a very 
little while There’s electric fans, expensive ad- 
vertising, a big license fee, more help and the 
films—that’s the feature that worries me. As 


SHORT OF FUNDS 27 


we learned this morning, we have got to have 
the latest and best in that direction.” 

“ But twelve shows a day, Frank,” a Pep. 
“Think of it—twelve!”’ 

“Yes, I know,” responded Frank. “ It looks 
very easy until some break comes along. I 
wouldn’t like to pile up a lot of expenses, and 
then have to flunk and lose not only the little 
capital we have but the outfit we’ve worked so 
hard to get. Truth is, fellows, any way I figure 
it out, were short of the ready funds to carry 
this thing through.” 

Randy and Pep looked pretty blank at this. It 
was a decidedly wet blanket on all their high 
hopes. 

*“ Couldn’t we get a partner who would finance 
us?” finally suggested Randy. 

“Why, say, give me that chance!” spoke an 
eager voice that brought the three chums to their 
feet. 


CHAPTER IV 
AN OLD FRIEND 


Ir had grown nearly dusk while the three 
chums sat at the window of their room ani- 
matedly discussing their prospects. None of 
them had thought of lighting ‘the gas and the 
night shadows that had crept into the room pre- 
yented them from recognizing the intruder whom 
they now faced. 

They had left the door of the room leading 
into the corridor wide open to allow a free cur- 
rent of air. The doorway framed a dim figure 
who now advanced into the room as Frank chal- 
lenged sharply: 

“Who's that?” 

‘“* Why, it’s me—Peter,” came the cool reply. 
“Don’t you remember? ” 

Peter—Peter Carrington—stalked closer to the 
window with the superb effrontery that was a 
natural part of his make-up. He ducked his head 
and grinned at the chums in the most familiar 


manner in the world. There was a spare chair 


AN OLD FRIEND 29 


near by. Peter moved it near to the others and 
sat down as if he owned it. 

*“ Feels good to rest,” he enlightened his grim 
and astonished hosts. “ Had a message for you, 
and the hotel clerk directed me to your room. 
Say, you must fancy climbing four flights of 
stairs!” 7 

“You seem to have made it,” observed Randy, 
in a rather hostile tone, while Pep seemed bris- 
tling all over. 

“Glad I did,” piped Peter, cheerfully. 
“Wouldn’t have missed it for worlds. Just in 
time to hear you fellows going over your dandy 
scheme, and say—it’s a winner! Photo play- 
house on the beach! Why, it’ll coin money!” 

Nobody said anything. Frank was minded to 
treat the intruder civilly and resumed his chair. 
Suddenly Pep flared out: 

**Have you been waiting out in the hall there, 
listening to our private conversation? ” 

“Guess I have; glad I did,’ chuckled the 
thick-skinned Peter. “I heard you say you were 
short of funds and something about a partner. 
What’s the matter with me? I suppose you 
know my aunt is rich and we’re some folks here. 
We live up on the Terrace—most fashionable 
part of the town. Why, if I had an interest in 
your show I could fill your place with compli- 


30 PiCTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


mentaries to the real people of Seaside Park. 
They’d advertise you, my friends would, till 
there'd be nothing but standing room left.” 

“Think so?’ observed Randy, drily. 

“ Know it. I’m my aunt’s heir, you know, and 
she’s got scads of money. She’s been drawing 
the tight rein on me lately. I smashed an auto- 
mobile last week and it cost her over four hun- 
dred dollars, and she’s holding me pretty close on 
the money question. But in business, she'd 
stake me for anything I wanted. Says she wants 
to see me get into something.” | 

“You got into the water when the motor boat 
blew up, all right,’ remarked Pep. 

“Hey?” spoke Peter, struggling over the sug: 
gestion presented. “Oh, you mean a joke? Ha! 
ha! yes, indeed. Business, though, now,’ and 
Peter tried to look shrewd and important. 

“We have not yet decided what we are going 
to do,’ said Frank. “ As you have overheard, 
we need a little more capital than what we ac- 
tually have. I will remember your kind offer, and 
if we cannot figure it out as we hope I may speak 
to you on the subject later.” 

*“T wish you would come right up to the house 
now and tell my Aunt Susie all about it,” pressed 
Peter, urgently. 

“T couldn’t think of it,’ answered Frank. 


‘AN OLD FRIEND 31 


“No, you leave matters just as I suggest and 
we will see what may come of it.” 

“Say, Frank,’ whispered Pep, on fire with 
excitement, “ you don’t mean to think of encour- 
aging this noodle; do you? ”’ 

**I want to get rid of him,” answered Frank, 
and all hands were relieved to see the persistent 
Peter rise from his seat. 

“Oh, say,’ he suddenly exclaimed—‘‘ I came 
for something, that’s so. My aunt wants to see 
vou, all three of you. Miss Porter gave her your 
names and addresses and she wouldn’t rest until 
I had come down here. She wants you all to 
come to dinner to-morrow evening and she won’t 
take no for an answer.” 

“Why, we may not be here then,” said Frank. 

“Oh, you must come,” declared Peter, ‘‘ now 
I have a chance to go in with you. I couldn't 
think of you're not seeing her. Look here,” and 
Peter winked and tried to look sly—‘‘ Aunt Susie 
is no tightwad. She is the most generous 
woman in the world. She’s minded to give you 
fellows a fine meal and treat you like princes. 
She considers that you saved her life and she 
cant do too much for you. Say, on the quiet, 
T’ll bet she makes you a present of fifty dollars 
apiece.” 

“What for?’’ demanded Frank. 


32 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“For getting to that burning boat and saving 
all hands, of course. Why, I wouldn’t take the 
tisk you did of oe blown up for a thousand 
dollars.” 

“No, I don’t think you would,’ announced 
Pep, bluntly. 

“Tl tell you,’ went on their guest—if 
youll give me a tip on the side Ill work up . 
Aunt Susie to a hundred dollars apiece. There, 
I know I can do it.” 

Frank bit his lip and tried to keep from losing. 
his temper with this mean-spirited cad. Then he © 
said with quiet dignity: 

“T think you had better go, Mr. Carrington, 
and I shall expect you to tell your aunt that we 
were only too glad to do a trifling service for 
her. Please inform her, also, that I am quite cer- 
tain we shall be too busy to accept her kind invi- 
tation for to-morrow evening; in fact, we may 
' leave Seaside Park for our home at Fairlands 
early in the morning.” 

Dauntless Peter! you could not squelch that 
shallow nerve of his. In a trice he shouted out: 

“Why! do you live at Fairlands? ” 

“Ves,” nodded Frank, wondering what was 
coming next from this extraordinary youth. 

“Then you know Greg Grayson?” 

““Oh, yes,” admitted Randy. 


AN OLD FRIEND 33 


“T should think we did!’’ observed Pep, with 
a wry grimace. 

“Why, then, we’re regular friends,” insisted 
Peter, acting as if he was about to embrace all 
hands. “He was my roommate at school. We 
were like twin brothers.” 

“Maybe that’s the reason!” muttered Pep. 

** His folks are big guns in Fairlands, just as 
we are here. Say, if you know Greg Grayson, 
that settles it. You just ask him if I ain’t all 
right—up to snuff and all that—and if I wouldn't 
make a fine partner.” 

Frank managed to usher their persistent vis- 
itor from the room, all the way down the cor- 
tidor the latter insisting that he was going to 
* put the proposition up to Aunt Susie” forth- 
with, and that they would hear from him on the 
morrow. 

“ Frank,” exclaimed Pep, “it seems good to 
get rid of that fellow.” 

‘* A’ fine partner he’d make, 
with a snort. 

“T am dreadfully sorry he overheard our 
plans,” spoke Frank. ‘“ Of course it will soon be 
generally known if we decide to locate here; but 
this Peter may talk a lot of rubbish that might 
hurt us or start somebody else on our idea.”’ 

“ And to think of his knowing Greg Grayson, 


39 


observed Randy, 


34 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


and playing him off on us as a recommenda- 
tion!” cried Pep. - 

“They make a good pair,” added Randy. 
“Why, I’d give up the whole business before I 
would have either of them connected with our 
plans in any way.” 

“T wouldn’t wonder if Mr. Jolly might happen 
along if we stay here a day or two longer,” re- 
marked Frank. ‘‘ You know he was the first to 
suggest a look at Seaside Park with a view to 
business.” | 

“That's so,” said Randy. “Did you write to 
him, Frank?” . 

“Yes. You know when we closed up at Fair- 
lands he said he would take a day or two visit- 
ing some relatives and looking over the movies 
business in the city.” 

“Ben Jolly told me he wasn’t going to stay 
idle all summer. Nor let us do it, either,’ ob- 
served Pep. ‘ He'll have something fresh to tell 
us when we see him.” 

“Well, when we left Fairlands I sent him a 
few lines telling him that we were going to look 
over the field here,” said Frank. ‘“‘ That is why. 
I think he may drop in on us.” o 

“YT wish he would,” declared Randy. “ Mr. 
Jolly knows so much about the business. What's 
the programme for to-morrow, Frank?” 


ae, the amount of the license fee for the Se 
us cost of a lot of electric wiring and current we 


Then hey started out on their 
ond day’ S investigation of conditions and pros- 





36 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


the boys picked up many a suggestion and useful 
hint. It was shortly before noon when they sat 
down to rest under a tree in that part of the 
town given over *o permanent residences and 
summer cottages. They began talking over the 
ever-present theme of their photo playhouse when 
there was an interruption. 

Down the street there strolled leisurely a young 
man who made it a point to halt whenever he got 
in front of a house. There he would linger and 
begin a series of whistling exploits that made the 
air vibrate with the most ravishing melody. 

“Say, just listen to that!” exclaimed Pep, in 
a pleased tone. 

: “It’s one of those trick whistles,’ declared 

Randy. 

“Then it’s an extra fine one,’ said Pep. 

“TI think you are mistaken, boys,’ suggested 
Frank. “ Those are real human notes—at least 
almost exact human limitations of bird tones.” 

“Well, then, the fellow must have a throat 
like a nightingale,” asserted the enthusiastic Pep. . 

The active whistler deserved all the chums said 
about him. His repertoire seemed exhaustless. 
He confined himself to imitations of birds ex- 
clusively—and of only such birds as were native 
to the surrounding country. 

He fairly filled the air with melody, and real 


AN OLD FRIEND 37 


birds in the trees and shrubbery about the hand- 
some residences of the locality twittered, hopped 
about and responded in an echoing chorus to his 
expert call. 

Little children came running out of yards to 
gaze in wonder and admiration at this unusual 
warbler. Even older folks watched and listened 
to him. The man turned a corner out of view of 
the motion picture chums, followed by quite a 
procession. | 

He had scarcely vanished before a high wagon 
such as is used to carry cooper’s barrels turned 
slowly into the street. A slow old horse pulled 
it along. Its driver nimbly leaped from his seat. 
The moment he called out “ Whoa!”’ to the horse 
and turned his face toward the chums, Pep Smith 
uttered a great shout. 

“Why, fellows, see,” he oie. in mingled aa 
and surprise—“ it’s Ben Jolly!’ 


CHAPTER V 
THE BIRD HOUSE 


Ben JoLLy it was, more sprightly, more jolly- 
looking than ever, for he waved his hand with a 
genial smile to the children staring down the side 
street after the whistler. The other reached into 
the wagon. Instantly upon recognizing their old- 
time friend and helper the three chums started in 
his direction. 

“ Hi, there!’ hailed Pep, while Randy waved 
his hand gaily and all hurried their gait. 

“Well! well!” exclaimed Jolly, his face an 
expanding smile of welcome, extending both 
hands and greeting his friends in turn. “I ex- 
pected to find you here and headed for here, but 
I did not expect to run across you so oddly.” 

“For mercy’s sake, Mr. Jolly,’ burst forth 
Randy, staring in amazement at the wagon, 
“what in the world have you got there? ” 

“Why bird houses,” replied Jolly. 

“ Bird houses?’ repeated Pep, equally bewil- 

38 


Be Sr ey abil Alan, ay 
1A } A 












eredy: “What 2 are you Name with eH a lot fhe 
f bird houses?” eae 
re Selling them, of course.’ ne 
Frank himself was ae and puzzled. The 
"wagon: contained half a dozen tiers of little box- | 
_ like structures packed close. At*one side was a 
_ heap of poles the size of display flag staffs. These 
- poles were stout and heavy, painted white, and 
- about twelve feet in length. The houses were 
about two feet high and as wide. They were — bi 
"painted white, like the poles, and were exact Bis 
_ models of a broad, low colonial house, even to Lae 
the veranda. The roof was painted red, there BN 
was an imitation chimney and a double open ee 
gorway in front trimmed with green, All 















A neater, more caine little bird house for a 
den could not well be imagined. As Jolly took 
mee from. the wagon the little children © 


40 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE, PARK 


“What a rare fellow he is!” remarked Randy 
to his companions, as they stepped aside. 

“The same busy, happy, good-natured friend ~ 
of everybody,’ returned Frank, with genuine - 
feeling. 

If there was a being in the world the motion 
picture chums had reason to feel kindly toward 
jt was this same Ben Jolly. A’ free wanderer, 
taking things easy, tramping flower-fringed coun-. 
try roads, making his way, willing to meet any 
task that came along, Ben Jolly had dropped into 
their life at the critical moment when they ‘were 
discussing the prospects of their first motion pic- 
ture show at Fairlands. 

Ben had been a Jack-of-all-trades and knew a 
little something about pretty nearly everything. 
Particularly he knew a good deal about the 
movies. He gave the boys advice and sugges- 
tions that enabled them to buy their first outfit 
at a pargain and the day the show opened ap- 
peared with an old piano which he had induced 
a rich relative to buy. From that time on Ben 
Jolly furnished the music for the Wonderland 
photo playhouse and, as told in our first volume, 
was the means of unearthing a plot against the 
father of Frank Durham, whereby he had been 
swindled out of a small estate. | 

Jolly took a sample bird house under each arm 










iG later to each purchaser and rejoined the boys. 
i. “Now, then,” he said, briskly, placing ar little 


- you and what are the prospects?” 


though, Mr. Jolly, will you kindly explain this 
new business of yours?” 
_ “Simply a side line,” 
offhand manner. 
“But where did you ever pick up that rig and 
lot of odd truck?” challenged Pep. 






replied Jolly, int a gay, 









“1 ran across the finest advance agent 





| him once, but under his eae of Hal Pope. 


_ tive little miniature domiciles, distributed poles 


toh, of banknotes in a well-filled wallet, “how are | 


Pe eercient, declated Randy. -“ See» here,. 


“T picked up better than that,” retorted Jolly, 


an hE business—and here he comes. You knew 





42 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“So it is,’ echoed Randy. 

“Glad to meet you again,” said Hal Vincent, 
and there was an all-around handshaking. 
“You're all looking fine and I hear you're pros- 
perous.,” . oe 

“Not so much so that we could afford to hire 
you for our programme at Fairlands, as we 
would like to do, Mr. Vincent,” replied Frank, — 
with a smile. 

Pep began to grin as he looked at Vincent, and 
the memory of their first meeting was reviewed. 
‘Then he chuckled and finally he broke out into 
a ringing guffaw. 

“Thinking of my first and only appearance at 
that auction where you bought your movies out- 
fit?’ inquired Vincent, with a smile. 

“Will we ever forget it?” cried Randy. “I 
tell you, Mr. Vincent, if you hadn’t made the 
auctioneer believe that two innocent bystanders 
were bidding against each other with your ven- 
triloquism, and gained time until Frank arrived, 
we would never have gotten into the motion pic- 
ture business.”’ 

“It worked finely; didn’t it?’’ answered Vin- 
cent. 

“IT ran across Hal at Tresco, about thirty miles 
from here,” narrated Ben Jolly. “ He was count- 
ing the ties in the direction of New York, having 


age tee ae and lodging.” 
“Yes, I was about all that was left of the Gone 
-_ solidated peas Amusement Corporation,” put 
a in Vincent. “I was glad to meet an old friend 
like Ben. He told me there was the shadow of 
; a chance that you might start in at Seaside Park 
and wanted me to come along with him. Then 
we ran across the outfit here,’ and the speaker 
nodded toward the wagon and its contents. 
3 “That was my brilliant idea,’ added Jolly. 
“ As I call it a rare stroke of luck, the way we ran 
f across the outfit.” 
“How?” projected Pep, vastly curious. — 
| “Well, a carpenter in a little town we came 
through had got crippled. The doctor told him 


rt 


f 
‘ 
ig 
4 
Y 


aths. He was a lively, industrious old fellow 
d couldn’t bear to be idle. Had a lot of waste © 





44 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


ventriloquist friend was exercising his talents. 

“The carpenter,” proceeded Jolly, “hired a 
lot of boys to go forth on his mission of kind- 
ness to our feathery songsters. The campaign 
went ahead until nearly everybody wanting a 
bird house got one. Our friend found himself 
with some two hundred of the little structures 
left on his hands. He had overstocked the mar- 
ket, with a big surplus left on his hands. When 
we came along it was a sign in front of his place 
that attracted our attention. It read: ‘These 
fine bird houses and a capable horse, wagon, and 
harness for sale for a mere song.’ 

“ Anything odd always catches me, so I inter- 
viewed the old man. It seemed that he had re- 
ceived word only that day that a relative in 
another part of the country had left him a farm. 
He wanted to realize quick and he offered me the 
bird house outfit and the rig all for fifty dollars. 
I had only thirty-eight dollars, and he took that 
and gave me his new address. The arrangement 
was that if I was lucky in getting rid of the bird 
houses I was to send him the balance. If I didn’t 
he was willing to charge it up to profit and loss. 
He'll get that balance,’ announced Jolly, with a 
satisfied smile. | 

“Tt looks so, judging from your sales of the 
last half-hour,’ remarked Frank. 









oily? Meee ics Randy. 
ie A dollar soe is I don’t sell them, though— 
not a bit of it,” exclaimed Ben Jolly, modestly. 
Oe kes Hal. You ought to hear his whole reper- 
: _toire—orioles, thrushes, mourning doves, night- 
_ ingales, mocking birds. He infuses the neighbor- 


hood with the melody and I slide in with the 
__ practical goods. And that rig—remember the 


‘noise wagon at Fairlands, Pep Smith?” 
beago ee» Cried: Pep, in. a emp way—‘ I 
should oy T did!” 
‘The “noise wagon’ ’ had been satiod dee in 
a connection with the photo playhouse at Fair- 
Bp and had become a novel institution with 
the inhabitants. ‘A wagon enclosed with canvas, 
“ bearing announcements of existing and coming 


film features, was provided with a big bass 


_ drum, bells, huge board clappers and some horns 
: all operated by pedals under the driver’s feet. 
“You see this new rig of mine would work in 
ha ‘the same basis here,” proceeded Jolly. Naa si 





if Tm anxious to hear it all,” Se ee 





46 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


Jolly, “but we’ve got our stock to get rid of. 
Nothing like keeping at it when you’ve made a 
good beginning; and this town starts out prom- 
ising-like.”’ i 

Frank now decided that he would remain over 
at Seaside Park for another day at least. The 
appearance of Ben Jolly somehow infused all 
hands with renewed vim and cheerfulness. The 
chums were glad also to meet Hal Vincent. He 
had done them a big favor in the past and they 
realized that he could be of considerable advan- 
tage to them in the future in case they located at 
Seaside Park. 

Vincent had the reputation of being an accom- 
plished all-around entertainer. He was an expert 
ventriloquist and parlor magician, liked the boys 
and had told Frank on the occasion of their first 
meeting that he would be glad to go on their 
programme at any time for a very moderate com- 
pensation. 

Ben Jolly burst in upon his young friends with 
his usual bustle and buoyancy about six o’clock 
that evening. He merrily chinked a pocket full 
of silver and was all ready for what might next 
come along, and eager to tackle it. 

“Left Hal finishing one of the few full meals 
he has had since his show broke up,” reported 
Jolly. “Got rid of the last one of the bird 





"speaker Sinbited a Sirntortable: jeking roll of 
bank notes. “That was a fine speculation, the 
way it ‘turned out, and leaves me ee in funds. 
_ Now then, what’s the programme? ” 

Frank became serious at once and all the others 


as well. He told his loyal friend all about their 


plans and hopes. Jolly shook his head soberly 


_ when Frank produced some figures showing that 
_ the amount necessary to operate a new photo 
playhouse was beyond their ready means. 
 “Y’ve got nearly one hundred dollars you are 
welcome to,” reported Jolly promptly, ‘but 
that’s about my limit. You see, when I got the 
money to buy that piano and the ‘noise wagon ' 
I practically sold my prospects for a last mess of 





ny way to give the new show a start, but when 
comes to raising the extra five hundred dollars 
needed, I'm afraid I can’t help you much.” 

_ Randy looked glum at this, and Pep was al- 
_ most crying. Ben Jolly sat chewing a toothpick 
vigorously, his: thinking cap on. 

eas tet we had better give up the idea of 











pottage. I’m willing to pitch in and live ’most. 











deer 
ee és 
pas 














ar ae 


48 PICTURE CHUMS. AT SEASIDE PARK 


nounced a bellboy, appearing in the open door- 
way. 

Frank arose from his chair promptly and went 
out into the corridor. 

“‘ In the ladies’ parlor, sir,” added the bellboy, 
and Frank went down the stairs, wondering who 
this unexpected visitor could be. 





eee CHAPTER VI 


A FRIEND IN NEED 1 
. FRANK DurHam entered the ladies’ parlor of 
| a Faye hotel to see a stout, dressy woman arise, 
_ joined by a girlish companion. He recognized 
both at once. They were the persons he had 
taken aboard the launch from the burning motor 
es the afternoon before. : aren 
Pe fe Lits is Mr. Durham,” spoke Miss Porter, 
i ai she smiled in a friendly way at our hero, 
_ while her companion extended her bejeweled 
hand with a decided show of welcome. 
> "Twas so ere by that explosion,” said 
ee Carrington, “that I just got a glimpse of 
you. Then that ridiculous fainting away! I 
ave thanked Miss Porter a dozen times for hav- i 
ng had the foresight to obtain your name and 
th t of your brave young comrades. Now then, _ 
| Durham, if you please, sit down and give an oe 
count of peels * fe 

























- 















50. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“ Why have you not accepted our invitation to 
come up to the house, as I requested? ’ demand- 
ed Mrs. Carrington, pretending to be very severe. 

“I certainly appreciated your kindness’ in 
thinking of me,” replied Frank; “ but I have been 
very much occupied with business and did not 
know yesterday how long I would remain at Sea- 
side Park. Then, too, some friends arrived this 
afternoon.” 

“T am used to being obeyed, young man,” 
Mrs. Carrington, with a playful frown. “I have 
no doubt, though, that I sent a blundering mes- 
senger. Oh, that Peter of mine! I never know 
how to place him. He came back perfectly wild 
over going into the motion picture business with 
you. He has been tormenting me all day long 
about it. I have told him decidedly that I should 
not encourage him in any way. 

“To tell you the truth, Mr. Durham, Peter is 
a sad failure at anything that requires applica- 
tion and work. I would not do you the injus- 
tice of having you hampered by a person who 
has no business training and does not know the 
value of money. The fact is, Peter has been a 
great cross to me of late, and I am now in corre- 
spondence with a military school, with the idea 
of getting him where a year’s discipline may do 
him some good.” 


Pt ee Oe Fe i eerie Mees be 
pW apd 2, le ‘ FAAS i h, 

K D U 4 airs 
4 a= 





ea the Mca of taking Peter Carrington ee? OM 

pe partnership. He felt immensely relieved, sae 
however, to find that his visitor did not press 

- that phase of the subject. oe 

“TI have come, first and foremost,” went on i a 

the fussy but good-natured lady, “to thank you | as 


for what you did for us. WhenI think of how 
_ near we were to drowning or burning up it makes | 
me shudder! My friends, who happened to see ie 
- your picture in this morning’s paper——” ee 
_ “My picture?” exclaimed Frank, in bewilder- ah 
ment. ‘“ What picture, Mrs. Carrington?” 
_ “Why,” cried Mrs. Carrington, “he actually 
. is so modest he hasn't realized- what a hero he 
has been! I refer to the splendid poe of your : 
"bravery j in the Brenton Daily News.” i 
_ Brenton was the nearest city, about twenty 
4 aa from Seaside Park. Frank began to get a 
_ faint glimmering of the situation now. ‘The re- 
_ porter who had snap- -shotted him with his camera 
from the pier must have sent his story to the 
paper Mrs. Carrington mentioned. ees 
a he e ‘J think I have the ee, about the rescues’ (anaes 











“You can have it, Mr. Durham,” 
his mischievous tormentor with a smile. 


came down here to say. Oh, I was walle shou 
my friends. They have fairly overwhelmed m 
with congratulations over my fortunate CS 


paper noeouen said—what was it, Mrs. Conse 
ton? You must tell Mr. Durham, i declared : 


younger woman. 7 | 
“ About the handsome picture and anne ne en- 
sible, thoughtful young man our rescuer must 
be?” ee vs 
Oh, Mrs. Carringieae  bleaiedl ee 
beg of you!—it is I who am being OV 


now. You will make me sO vain oy bie 








tington, and her face and tone grew very serious. 
~ “You did so much of consequence, Mr. Durham, 
and you did it so manfully and nobly that I 
would not think of affronting you with any offer 
_ of areward. I fancy I read you deeper than you 
_ think as to that feature. I will say this, however, 
and I came here especially to say it, that I am 
_ your true friend and I am anxious to help you 
and Ben young companions ina AUN Biveat useful 
; way.” 
You are very, very kind to say what you 
do,” said Frank earnestly. 
tage - be really kind,” suggested Mrs. Car- 
 rington, ‘ ‘and I shall be satisfied. My nephew 
has told me enough about your business plans to 
: convinee me that you are at a critical point in 
, _ your career, where a little capital may be every- 
thing to you. I ama wealthy woman, Mr. Dur- 
ham. I do not wish to offer you a gift. Simply 
as a business woman who has confidence in you, 
— let me know about your affairs and help you in 
a ie a way.” 
ae ae head drooped. The boy who never 















Shas Ome 


“ PICTURE cHums: 


other said Frank ee  brokeny Nie ee 
living to find such cana se 


ing a hand on F fark s arm, “ T can imagine oyhay 
a lovely mother you must have and for her sake 
you must let me help you along in your business 
enterprise. Come, Mr. Durham, explain your 
needs to me and let me co-operate with you.” 

The invitation was irresistible. Long since 
Frank had calculated all the risks and chances of 
success in his new enterprise and had decided 
that it could scarcely fail. | 

“Mrs. Carrington,” he said in a straightfor- 
ward vey: . I would not allow any pee we in 


~ motest risk of loss. We lack a few Hunareel tole 
lars to. start a photo playhouse at Seaside Park 
in the right way: If you feel i ina eee to ad- 


goes wrong we will be the ae jesere i 
“I not only feel willing to assist you,” 
Mrs, Carrington, bute insist at ee 


Porter?” . 
“Nol no! no!” interme Fra 





AR Age eu Poy by. 
ey, et 


Ne 
Regt 
nn 


























you ve some agent or nae shia will ane 
for you, that will be the best way.” 

_ The kind lady looked disappointed at the sug- 
gestion. In her free-hearted way she wished to 
"trust Frank without restriction. He saw that her 
_ feelings were hurt and he hastened to say: 
“My partners will feel ever so much better to 
have everything arranged in a regular way and 
set down in black and white.” 
| eee: Very well, have your own way, Mr. Dur- 
Ruane ' said the lady, “only promise to come to 


_ me if se have any troubles or further lack of 


Je 


funds.” ‘ 
“Oh, we shall not, ” declared Frank, brighten- 
4 ing with courage and confidence as he saw all ob- 
‘structions to the success of the new show re- 
moved; and before he realized it, in his quick, 
vivid way he was reciting his plans and prospects. 
in detail. Frank told more than he had started 
out to do, for the reason that every time he 
bes “paused his auditors plied him with new ques- 
tions and urged him on with his story. | ey 
GE “How very, very interesting,” commented rik 
Mrs. Carrington. : : 
sal tae is simply delightful!” declared Miss Por- ; 
t , with sparkling eyes. “ Oh, dear! it must be ee 
D ndid ee to be a bo of to 

























56 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“I must see your young friends,” insisted 
Mrs. Carrington. ‘I owe them sincere thanks 
for their part in the rescue, and wish to tell them 
SO. a 

There was nothing for it but that Frank should 
go for his chums. Randy was naturally bashful 
in the presence of strange ladies, but Pep was 
“all there.” Both Mrs. Carrington and Miss 
Porter were interested in the lively lad whom they — 
attracted from the start and made Pep feel com- 
pletely at home with his impetuous, original ways 
and remarks. 

The boys promised to call upon Mrs. Carring- 
ton as soon as they got settled at Seaside Park. 
Then all three escorted the visitors to an auto- 
mobile waiting at the curb. Beside the chauffeur 
they found Peter Carrington seated. He nodded 
familiarly to the chums. Then he caught Pep’s 
eye. | 
With an air of great importance and a quick 
glance at his aunt and her companion, as if mak- 
ing sure that they were not observing him, he 
placed a finger to his lips. 

“S-st!” he uttered, and winked in an alto- 
gether mysterious manner at Pep Smith. 

“*S-st!’”? repeated Pep, as the machine 
started on its way—‘“ now what in the world 
does Peter Carrington mean by ‘S-st?’” 


CHAPTER VII 
BUSINESS BOYS 


**T nope I did right, fellows,” said Frank. 

“You never do any other way,’ declared 
Randy Powell loyally. 

“Exactly my sentiments,’ echoed the impetu- 
ous Pep Smith. “ You'll say so, too; won’t you, 
Mr. Jolly?” 

“} don’t have to say it,’’ retorted Ben Jolly 
quickly, “ you all know I think it. You're a man 
of business, Frank Durham, and a Philadelphia 
lawyer couldn’t have conducted this deal in a 
neater, squarer way.” 

“Thank you,’ acknowledged Frank, slightly 
flustered at the compliments of the coterie of 
friends about him. 7 

The new photo playhouse at Seaside Park was 
a certainty. When the boys came down from 
their rooms at the hotel the morning after the 
visit from Mrs. Carrington and her companion, 
the clerk called to Frank as he was leaving the 


place. 
57 


morning.” | B 


The aye handed a aeolian eee to. a 
Frank. It read: “Attorney William Slade, on — 
request of Mrs. Carrington, would like to see you, 
in the morning.” se 

Frank showed the crernen eae to te ‘aid 
Pep. The chums at once realized what it meant. 
It evinced the determination of the strong-willed 
Mrs. Carrington to have her own way. In fac 
the boys had come to the conclusion that ‘she 
should do so. With Ben Jolly, up in their TOO 
after their visitors had departed, they had gor 
over the entire a in detail. 3 


_ advised Jolly. 

lady feels vudebied to you, her offer ish 

square and business-like.” Ge 
Frank thought over the Saas in its 





Uf Ppa 


L phone message at once set things in motion. 
The chums had breakfast, Frank learned the ad- 
dress of Mr. Slade, and about nine o'clock started 
for his office, which was located over the bank of 
the town. 
ae You had better meet Mr. Jolly, as we 
agreed,” directed Frank to his companions. 

‘i “Where will you pick us up again?” ques- 

; tioned Randy. : 

oe ian Why, I think I shall not be with this Mr. 

‘Slade more than an hour,” explained Frank. 

_ “Say, then,” suggested Pep, “suppose we go 
ver to the empty store you're thinking of turn- 


% n is einent to meet in the morning. 


” smiled Frank. 
” confessed Pep. ‘‘ Mr. Jolly 
I shouldn’t wonder 42 he 


i 


Peep well, » said Frank, “ we will all meet 
pl at eleven o'clock.” 


cae store half an hour earlier than he ex» | 
& He found, his chums and Ben Jolly 2 anx- oy 





ee Satie Hen wvineen aa remai 
‘the horse and wagon at the barn. 
There were some old chairs at the rear of tl 
vacant building, and Mr. Morton invited them to ‘ 
make free use of them. It was quite a business — r. 
conclave that grouped together while Frank told a 
his story. It was clear and simple. , ‘Mrs. Car- ; 
rington had instructed her attorney to advance _ 
up to one thousand dollars to ‘Frank and his | 
friends as needed. | ui 
“‘T insisted that we give the lady a bill of ae 
of all our belongings as security,” explained a 
Frank. “The lawyer laughed at me. You | 
don’t know a good thing when you see ‘it? 
said. ‘ Perhaps not,’ I told him; but I know an 


, ay right.” : 
_ And then followed the bean sanetion of, 
and the boys to all Frank ae done. | fee 


‘so what J say is only out Of; friendly Me 
ts would advise that just one of the firn 
whe fae orstiel if he’ Ss s willing, 1 





BUSINESS BOYS 61 


all business dealings. It simplifies things, you 
see.” 

“It’s got to be Frank, then,” spoke Randy. 

“It will always be Frank,” echoed Pep. “‘ He’s 
the brains of the business; isn’t he?” 

“TI don’t like the way you put it as to your 
being a drifter-in, as you call it, Mr. Jolly,” said 
Frank. “If it wasn’t for you I am afraid the 
Fairlands venture wouldn’t have amounted to 
much.” 

“Sho!” derided Jolly modestly. 

“It’s true. You had your way about that and 
drew just as little money as you could. Of 
course that was an experiment, and I let you 
have your own way. Now we are on a broader 
basis and I’m going to have mine.” 

“Are you?” challenged Jolly, with twinkling 
eyes. 

“Yes, sir, IT am. I shall make a definte new 
deal all around.” 

“Will you?” said Jolly. 

“Don’t you doubt it. You've been a staunch, 
helpful friend and it’s equal partners, if we come 
to Seaside Park.” 

“ That is, you think you are going to make a 
business man of me?” 

“You've been one all along,’ vociferated Pep. 
Why, that noise wagon idea alone——” 


profits of the new venture. | A ah 
Frank called Mr. Morton into hige ‘confab | 
He explained to him precisely their ones and the - 
extent of their capital. Pw ~~ 
“ Mrs. Carrington backing you; eh?” he ob- 
served. “That makes you pretty solid, if you : 
only knew it, young man, although I had about . 
made up my mind to accept you as a tenant with- | | 
out any guarantee. Shall we call it settled—yo 
lease the premises until October first, pay me the 
first. month’s rent before yeu come in and ue 


rangement,” said Frank. 
“Tt’s settled, then,” a their banaigea 
Pep followed him as he went to the 
where the “ To Rent” sign was placed, t 
‘it and began to tear it up. Pep was pretty near 
_ dancing. If they had been given 2) pal ce he. 
could not have been more pleased. aye 
| “S-st!” sounded a sudden hail and the 
tous and mysterious Peter Carrington c ut 


: AUS a outside the ee doorway 


. press: ne dislike for a a slow who F d 





BUSINESS BOYS 63 


eavesdropper and left a relative to the risk of 
drowning. “What you snooping around 
for?” 

“Wanted to see you.” 

“All right,” nodded Pep carelessly. ‘* You 
don’t have to ‘S-st’ at me regularly to get my 
attention, though. What's on your mind?” 

““T see the rent sign is down.” 

“Yes,” proclaimed Pep grandly, “we have 
leased the premises.”’ 

“Well, I’m dead gone on being a partner. 
Aunt Susie discourages me, but I don’t care for 
that. There’s an uncle of mine over in Brenton 
who says he will back me if the thing shows up 
good, and I want to have a talk with you fel- 
lows——” 

“Say, we have all the capital we need,” an- 
nounced Pep. 

“Oh, you have?” 

“A new partner just came in.” 

“Huh!” snorted Peter. “Say, you don’t 
mean my aunt?” 

“She is not a partner, no.” 

Peter looked abashed, then disappointed, then 
angry. 

“°*Tain’t fair!” he declared. 

“What isn’t fair?” 

“‘T spoke first and I deserve to have a show.” 















propounded Pep bluntly. : ; 
‘This staggered Peter. ae ite chino | 

deeply. Then he looked Pep over and seemed to 

Ibe studying sorpchng . 


Tn Me 


See here,” he said with a halecunsiie ex- 
pression in his face, “I suppose you know a heap 
about the movies?” eve ia 
“Oh, tolerable, tolerable,” - responded Pe 
who did indeed think so. Pee 
“And you remember Greg ae of Fa air . 
lands? ” et a 








tween the lines. Bn | ae 
“Well, I’ve got an idea,” chuckled ne 
“Anybody has a right to start a movies show 
haven’t they?” ! 
“Tf they want to, I suppose.” 
“Well, since I can’t make a deal with th 
Durham, I’m going it on my own hook, 1 
raise the money; Greg’s father is rich and he cat 
help. All we need is someone who ihowan : 
practical end of the business. Say, you ome in 
with us and Pil au ‘you double re xpect 






















a 





BUSINESS BOYS 6s 


through. At a mere hint of disloyalty to his fa- 
mous friends he took fire. He gave Peter a push. 

“You get out!’ he ordered staunchly. 

“Hey?” goggled Peter. 

“And stay out!” 

“ Aumph!” 

Peter got to a safe distance. Then he shook 
his fist at Pep. 

“Say,” he snarled, “ you’ve waked up the 
wrong customer. I’ve given you the chance of 
your life and you've turned me down and in- 
sulted me. Tl show you something. Greg Gray- 
son and I will put a spoke in the wheel of that 
Frank Durham and your whole precious crowd; 
see of we don’t!” 


CHAPTER VIII _ 


KIDNAPPED 


Bybee I had our old bind hota said Ben J aly, ni 
* there’s one tune had play for att it s worth.” 


Durham. 
“* Home, Sweet Home.’ ’ 


ing wares. He had a smiling and ecto 
audience. Everybody was smiling, even 
Vincent, who had no particular interest ir 
new photo playhouse. Frank’s face was b 
ing, Randy looked his delight and Ga 4 
the words, with unction: | 

: It’ S simply Bt on 





KIDNAPPED 67 


“mapping out details that Randy got to talking in 
his sleep, and Pep aroused all hands by scream- 
ing out in the midst of a nightmare in which he 
had started a photo playhouse in China, and the 
natives had mobbed him when a film showed one 
of their favorite mandarins being carried away in 
an airship. 

It was Jolly, however—bustling, practical Ben 
Jolly—who had won the laurels on the present 
occasion. When the vacant store had been used, 
at the rear was a temporary kitchen. This was 
a frail structure set on stilts, but roomy and just 
the thing for summer occupancy. Jolly was a 
natural born trader. It seemed that he found 
some difficulty in disposing of the old horse and — 
wagon for cash. Finally, however, he came 
across a dealer in second hand furniture. Jolly 
had got the idea in his head of cutting down. 
living expenses and utilizing the old kitchen 
tacked on to the store building. | 

The chums were down at the hotel that after- 
noon and Jolly planned a grand surprise for 
them. It was now, upon their arrival at the 
playhouse building, that the pleasure and praise 
of the motion picture chums hailed him. 

No one could have failed to approve of the 
wonderful transformation Jolly had made in a 
bare, cheerless lumber room. He had: traded 
























to good vance! There was a es: 0 
table, a half dozen chairs, a cupboard, a gas stove, 
a complete outfit of culinary utensils, dishes and 
table cutlery, neat curtains for the windows and 
drapery dividing the room in two parts, and one 
side section again into two compartments. — 

In each of these were three cots, a table and a 
bureau. The cots had double equipment of 
sheets and blankets, worn but attractive rugs 

covered the floor, and there were several pictures 
on the walls. It was no wonder that Pep Smith 
burst forth in his usual responsive way with ee 
declaration: a Nee “ 

“Tt’s simply great!” sa aan 

“When you come to think that I oa all toe 
traps and forty dollars cash to boot for that 
impossible old rig of ours,’ ’ observed Jolly, “ you 
‘will see that I made a very interesting dicker. 

ae What do you say, Durham; we can make. a neat 
= cut in expenses, eh?” | si 
yy “Why, it makes easy the antes part of our 
whole proposition,” declared Frank. — i : 
“Yes, and here we can tke be sight on 

— f spot,” spoke Randy, _ 
























_ KIDNAPPED 


up with the supplies and I’ll promise to do 


99 


Be Pee ee = Fin, eee 


~~ oa ones ead ce 
is a SP 9 — 
“A raclubS vgn stuatiie ose © ete ea las Dies Laces 
ai Sema Se alt et eae ib os 


“It’s just fine,’ voted Pep. “The sleeping 
rooms look right across to the ocean and there’s 
splendid sweep of air with all these openings. 
. Lh will be cool and comfortable on the very hot- 


ee 





test nights. I’ll wash all the dishes, Mr. Jolly, og 
and set the table, and all that.” A, 
_ “Oh, we shall get on famously, I am sure of be 
‘that, ” observed Frank with keen satisfaction. os 
The boys decided that they would at once aye 

ove their traps from the hotel and make per- is 


manent headquarters at their home base. They 
ad their: first meal in Ps new quarters that 










eo os, if you care to take pot luck with us till 
et ee on our feet, you can certainly help 















en "PICTURE cHUMS AT sl 





“Tve gat that in iad e explained Vincen 
“but I must get to New York first. You see, 
the show I was with that broke up owes me_ 
money. I want to see if I can’t get something 
out of the wreck and I want to call on the backers | 
of the proposition. I’d better get to the city 
while I have the partnership profits Jolly has been — 
good enough to say I have earned on that bird 

house speculation. If I don’t it will melt away.” 

“T say,” here put in Jolly, “why don’t you” 

and Durham go together? As it’s: arranged, t 
Durham, you have got to put in a day or two 
arranging for what new Ree as we need and 
the film service.’ 

“That is true,” replied Ranke ‘and Mr. Vin 
cent knows so much about the motion picture 
business his advice ne help: would be By ae 
benefit to me. | 









outfit?” cag Jolly. Se yea: 
\. “7 think that is the hese ae : 
| assented Frank. ‘ _— and 
















O ‘see the folks.” 
_ Everything was settled on that basis. ‘It 
would take about ten days to get the place fitted 
up as the boys wanted it, Mr. Morton told 
them. In the meantime there were many little 
things that needed to be done in which two handy 
ds like Randy and Pep might help. They and 
Jolly went to the train to see Frank and Vincent 
off the next morning. Two hours later Ben 
Jolly took a train in another direction, bound for 
Fairlands and carrying messages from the boys 
o their home folks and friends. 

Part of the fixing up of the store room Mr. 
orton had agreed to do at his own expense. 
‘here were, however, innumerable details that 
ell to the lot of the boys themselves. There 
vere rolls of matting to buy for the center aisle, 
nd the stage was to be built under Randy’s sup- 
rvision. They had decided to use the old name, 
Wonderland,” so as to utilize the ornate elec- 
c sign they had at Fairlands, and Pep was 
*n charge of having this same name placed in 
ep way on the two front sees 
















=, 


pn 

Pury % 

et Oc <%, or 
we 8 

1 oy 
vee 
af 

« ., 
thine 

aT Ome 

Ptah 0 

¥ wee ie 
bd m] 

ret 

fete hal 
} 

re ad) 4 
ot 
whe 
2 

ee ts) 

Baan 

? 

ity 
ie y 

ONS | | 

ei fe 

re) 

Pane 

43, 

eS 

: ie 

bie Ay a 

Pps 

: ue 

ace 

yak he 

bk fe 


oa 


ee 
_— 


a 


Sa 
gs ee 


= 











ay. 





72 PICTURE cCHUMS AT " SEASIDE, A 





bireless when he liked a job. ‘Pep was no Tage 
gard, either, and in addition he kept up such a 
lively chatter and made so many funny remarks 
that he had Mr. Morton grinning half the time. 

The result was that not only did the owner 
of the place do all that he had agreed to do, but 
did it just as the boys wanted. Then again when 
it came to things not in his contract, he supplied 
the material voluntarily and ended up py Help ire 
the boys at their tasks. wey 

At the end of three days Randy int Pep 
prided themselves on having accomplished won- 
ders. They had added several genuine comforts” 
to their living quarters at the rear and had pretty 
well spread the news over Seaside Park that a 
first class photo playhouse was soon to be 
opened. | 4 

“A letter came from Frank asia morning. 
It told of his busy hours in the city and referred 
to Vincent as a splendid help in introducing him 
among the motion picture supply men. He sent 
on a bundle of film and song posters from which 
Pep could scarcely keep his hands. Frank. men-— 
tioned some of the movies accessories he had 
purchased and told of some novel features i in 
ys of films for whee he sean aoa 













KIDNAPPED 73 


as much excited as his chums over the prospects 
of the new Wonderland. 

che I’m ’way up in the clouds all of the 

time,’ piped Pep. ‘“‘ Why, I’ll feel like a girl 
just going into society. I’m going to call it a 
short day and quit. There are some groceries to 
order, so [ll attend to that and we'll take in the 
beach this evening.” 

“Yes, we've earned a little recreation, I think,”’ 
agreed Randy. 

Pep started off, whistling like some happy 
Jark. It was then five o’clock in the afternoon 
and he was due to return in half an hour. Double 
that time passed on, however, yet he did not ap- 
pear. 

“ Wonder why Pep doesn’t show up?” rumi- 
nated Randy. “It’s time he did, as we wanted 
to get an early start.” 

At half past six Randy was nervous and a little 
put out. At seven o’clock he put on his cap and 
started to lock up to go in quest of his missing 
comrade. 

Just as he came out on the broad planking lead- 
ing from the boardwalk to the entrance to the 
store, a man hailed him. He was a stout, lum- 
bering old fellow whom Randy had seen before. 

“Hi!” he hailed, “‘ you remember me; don’t 
you?” 


74. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“Why yes,” nodded Randy. “You are the 
man Mr. Jolly traded his rig with for our furni- 
ture.’ 

“That's it,” nodded) the "mantis 2 ysavom) 
thought I'd come and tell you. It was near my 
place that the accident happened.” 

‘“ What accident?” challenged Randy sharply. 

“ Automobile—that young fellow that’s josh- 
ing and jollying all the time ¥ 

“You mean Pep—Pepperill Smith?” asked 
Randy. 

““That’s him, I remember hearing -Jolly call 
him by that name. Well, it was him that got 
hurt and ih 

“ Hurt!’ cried Randy, alarmed at the word— 
“When? How? Where?” | 

“ About an hour ago, by an automobile in front 
of my place,” was the reply. 

“Was he—was Pep seriously hurt? ”’ faltered 
Randy. . 

*“Not but what he could walk and sass the 
chauffeur, and all that; but I reckon one hand 
was pretty badly crushed. ‘The reason I came 
to tell you was, that isn’t all of it. From what 
I hear he is kidnapped.” 








CHAPTER IX 
PEP IN CLOVER 


'“ KIDNAPPED!” repeated Randy, in a nollow 
tone. 

The furniture man nodded his head assent- 
ingly. He was big and fat and had evidently 
come in a hurry. He had been blunt, but con- 
fused in telling his story. Now he took a long 
breath to begin again. 

Randy felt his heart sink. Everything had 
been going so well that the sudden news of an 
interruption to their buoyant progress chilled him 
through sheer contrast. He fancied all kinds 
of mishaps, and, seizing his visitor by the sleeve, 
pulled it in a worried way. 

“Tell me all about it—quick,” he demanded. 

“Thought I had, but I guess you didn’t get it 
straight. This Pep of yours was passing my 
place when I heard a woman shriek a bit ahead. 
She had left her child in a baby carriage while 
she went into a dry goods store. There came a 
whiff of wind down the street just as she came 
out. I don’t wonder she hollered out, for that 

le 















pee carriage was Sapohne across the stre et li hal 
a feather in a tornado.” es 
“ But—Pep?” urged Randy, benthely, Ey 
“What of him?” . 
“ He saw it in a flash. The woman stood mo- 
tionless and screaming. This Pep made.a sprint. 
I never saw anything done so splendidly. In 
a flash he slid over the pavement—just seemed — 
to fly over the street, making for that baby car- - 
riage. No wonder he hurried and no wonder 
the woman screamed, for exactly at that instant — 
a great red touring car carne tearing around thew : 
corner. It held the chauffeur and a fine looking 
old gentleman, who just rose up in his seat with — 
a yell as he saw that baby cartaees directly it in 
the path of the machine. : SO ie 
“There wasn’t even time for the chauffeur to. : 
move the wheel. I actually shut my hes think- FE 
ing the smash was is bound to come. a 







| cold with horror, Here be was lying on the groun a 
and the baby ea se safe and sou 
across the street.” Y 
“‘ How badly was Pep hurt? a inquired Ran 
his face pale with suspense. | ao 
_“T heard someone in the crowd ay. ae 
was broken. It seems, at the risk of his 
as fe he had made that dash ‘for the b p 






























given it a push out of the way of the auto 
ust as it was pouncing down upon it.” Pats nF 
“Where is Pep now?’’ asked Randy. a 
«“ Why, that is the queer part of it. The pas- Se 
_ senger in the machine jumped out and picked him 
up. He lifted him into the auto. He didn’t 
seem to want to go with the man, but they speeded Bhi: 
up and I supposed they were going to bring him 
here, or to the nearest doctor, or the hospital. 
‘A police officer came up right after the accident 
on a motorcycle. He made some inquiries, took 
some notes and went away again. Just now he 
g - came back and said that he could find no trace 
p of machine or boy, and that he had learned that 
_ the auto had been driven out of town on the 
west road as fast as‘it could go. Don’t you see 
shee !? 
— “T don’t!” cried. Randy almost frantically, 
‘Wasn't it enough that they ran him down, with- 
‘out carrying him away nobody knows where? 
Oh, I must get straight on his track—I must find 
























aL don’t care for ee will!” : 

“© Mebbe I’d better give you my address,”’ said 
s visitor. “ There’s been several accidents here _ 
It’s mostly tourists passing through the _ 





































town who are Seay stat" hae they dtivens 
rich old fellows who don’t value life or limb, and 
get out of the way fast as they can when they’ VE Ny 

_ done any damage. I suppose the man who owns ~ 
the machine that hurt your friend had heard of © 
how one or two before him had been arrested — 
and fined and forced to pay heavy damages, and 
just thought he’d grab up the lad and get him ~ 
and himself out of the way before ay investi- ub 
_ gation was made.” | | 
“Tt’s shameful!” exclaimed Randy, wrought — 

up now to the highest pitch of excitement and ~ 
indignation. “ Poor Pep! He may be suffer- 
ing tortures and all those inhuman wretches think 
about is getting clear of being found out. Tl — 
find him—TI’ll run down his kidnappers and bring e 
them to account, even if the police can’t.” 
The excited Randy did not even wait for the ‘ 
furniture man, but ran down the boardwalk and | 
then in the direction of the man’s store fast as he % 
could. There was not much to learn there out- 
side of what he already knew. His next call was 
at the police station. He was ‘incensed at the i \ 
este of the officers. They ee Peer . 










: The injured boy had heed) faker out. of ‘th 1 
Ay jurisdiction and that seemed to lead them to 












R tcc gos nea PCeped hor)! MCh a 
Th feet eek y 


a ey 


79 


andy Tee the ifection the red automobile 
d taken. He proceeded to a livery garage 
‘ere motorcycles were on rent, and made him-. 
seif known. He was well up in running the ma- 
hine and was soon speeding on the trail of his 
missing chum, as he supposed and hoped. The 
west road out of Seaside Park was the best in the 
section. It ran to Brenton and beyond that to 
the large cities. There was every reason to be- 
lieve that the kidnappers, if such they were, 
-wouid favor a smooth, easily traversed highway 
% over inferior dirt and stone roads that ran par- 
“allel. 

- Rendy stopped at the first little town he came 
o ard made some inquiries, but they availed 
him t:othing. Five miles further on, however, 
he got a clue. Here were crossroads and a 
‘Roadside Rest,” a general halting place for 
-roadmen. Several autos were in view, their oc- 
cupants taking lunch in a pavilion near the hotel 
x walking about stretching their limbs. 

A man who wore a banded cap and a close 
‘ting coat flitted around here and there in an 
portant way, and Randy decided he must be ; 
sort of major domo about the place. au 
I would like to inquire about an automobile i 
passed or stopped here within the past hour,” 
Randy, approaching this man. 
























































“Where from? 
the latter. 1 Daye a 
“T don’t know,” explained Randy, my but I will | 
give you the best description I can from heresay. | 
It was a big red car, and besides the chauffeur — 
and passenger there was : bey. about my age sane 
had got his arm hurt % 
“Oh, I know now,” interrupted the ee 
“you mean Colonel Tyson’s car. They stopped 
to get a wet towel soaked in ice water to wrap 
around the boy’s wrist, I fancy, ws he was hold- ; 
ing one arm and seemed in pain.” i 
“Yes, yes—that is my friend,” declared Randy : 
hastily. “ Which way did the machine go?” 
“To Brenton, of course, where it belongs.” q aa 
“Then you know its owner?” es, 
“ Everybody knows him—Tyson, ‘he enilliones : 
aire. Used to be a big bond 1 man in New York : 
City 
aii “Thank you,” said Randy and was off on bie 
| travels again. “I hope Pep isn’t hurt badly,” 
he mused. “He doesn’t seem to be from what | 
‘I hear; but why is this rich old fellow running 
away with him?” “ Besa 
It was quite late in the evening when R 









ro ee 
ee ee ee beni zt 














: Prenton ere was no difficulty in finding 
i Tyson home. It was a very fine mansion 
ith big grounds about it, but Randy was not 
at all awed by that. He ran his machine up to 
the stone porch and ascending the steps rang the 
door bell. A servant answered the summons. 
_ “Ts Mr. Tyson at home?” Randy inquired. 
“He is at home, yes,” replied the servant, 
studying critically the dust-covered caller. “ Busi- 
“ness with him? ” | 
_ “T have. You just tell him I am Randy 
“Powell from Seaside Park, and I came about the anes 
automobile accident.” pete 
_ The servant left Randy standing i in the vesti- 
bule until a portly, consequential-looking man ap- 
peared. He viewed Randy in a shrewd, super- 
_gilious way. coe 
2 _ What’ Ss your business?” he challenged 































., oe you Mr. Tyson?’ 
“Never mind that. What are you after?” 
“But I do mind it,” retorted Randy boldly. 
If you are Mr. Tyson, it was your machine that A 
down a friend of mine back at Seaside Park > 
uple of hours ago, and I want to know what = 
1 have done with him.” 

Mr. Tyson looked a trifle fust red; then ety | 
h She He said: 









ten “PICTURE cuums ic | on 


> 


the line.” 

“Why should foie you Aone it | 

“ Ha—hum!” muttered the millionaire. “ « See r 
here, come in. You look reasonable—more so 
than that young Es friend of yous unless Hey 
has his own way.” ; 
_ Mr. Tyson led Randy into a magnificently ae 
nished room, nodded him toa a chair and sat SNe 
facing him. | ) Byhertite vi, 

“See here,” he cues “you just tell a oe 
much rumpus you have raised about this unfor- 
-tunate affair.” : fe . 


“Tye raised no rumpus,” ‘aha: Randy, 
“T’ve simply run down your automobile, which 
the police of Seaside Park didn’t seem able 
Cnclned to do.” | is 


Neatly relieved, 
vat all in ne up ‘one satisfactory all arour 


pose it’s your” | ah 
| ie “Ves, it’s) me,” + destated Rea ie 
a ce Well, he wanted word sent 1 0 you.” e 




















ye 

“Not at but that isn’t it. See hake ie 
because I’m supposed to have a lot of money I 
‘seem to be a mark for everybody. I have been 















with my machine. A month ago I ran down a 
_man. About all he did was to stub his toe, but 
“he’s sued me for twenty thousand dollars dam- 
f ages and has a doctor ready to swear he is crip- 
pled for life. Last week I ran over a valuable 
dog at Seaside Park and the magistrate fined me 
fifty dollars for speeding over the limit, and said 
j au there was another complaint he would give me 
; a jail sentence. Meads fine thing to be rich; isn’t 
it? oy 


Mr. Dyson really looked so disgusted that 


Brady could not refrain from smiling. 
_ “The newspapers got hold of it and pictured 
oe as a regular ogre. Now it wasn’t our fault 





S he Baaly hart?” inquired Randy solicit- 


unfortunate enough to have various accidents 









84 PICTURE CHUMS AT T SBA 


hold us. The baby carriage hed no en ae 
it. Let all that go, though This Pep was a 
brave fellow to risk his life for the child, and I’m © 
glad he did it. My lawyer, after the last case, 
though, told me what to do in future accidents, 
so I followed his advice. I captured your ine 
and I intend to keep him captured.” | 
“T don’t think you will,” began Randy, rising 
-wrathfully to his feet. ‘“‘ He’s a poor boy, but 
_ he’s got some friends and of | 
“Pish! Don’t get excited. Keep cool, lad, 
hear me through. We rushed your friend here, — 
summoned the best surgeon in Brenton, and this 
Pep of yours is snug and comfortable as a dor- 
mouse—in bed in the best room in the house. 
I’m going to give him the best of care and pay 
him for any loss of time he may sustain, one 2 
that fair?’ | | ; 
“‘Why—I suppose so,’ admitted Randy : 
“ Only—what does Pep say?” i 
“Well, at first he was going to fight us, Wen ; 
hand and all. Then the surgeon talked some 
sense into him, by telling him that if he would © 
use a little care and not use his arm he would © 
be well as ever inside of a week. If he didn’t, he s 
may have all kinds of complications in the future. 





To be frank with you, all I care for is to turn 





the boy out sound and ver so he can 't be re) 
















I Reha iatlar damage suits.” 
— “Can I see him?’ inquired Randy. 
You SHEAY can,” replied Mr. Tyson with 
‘ ape ‘and I hope you will cooperate with 


a Mr. Aaa had not boerstated the case when 
he told Randy that Pep was well cared for. As 
_ Randy entered a great luxuriously furnished room 
upstairs he saw his comrade propped up in bed, 
his arm in a sling and a table spread with dainties 
directly at hand. 

“You tell him to stay here,” whispered Mr. . 
- Tyson in Randy’s ear, and left the two boys to 
_ themselves. ae 
Pep grinned as he welcomed. Randy. He | 
eeoved his injured arm to show that he \ was by 
5 no means helpless. 

: “T’m booked here for a week, Randy,” were 
his first words—“ but why not? There won't be = 
much to do around the new show for some days 
to come, and if there ae I wouldn’t be any help 
with my crippled arm.” 

_ Then Pep in a modest way went on to give de- 
tails of the accident. 

You see,” were his concluding remarks, “Tm 
_ eomfortable and well cared for here and, as the y 





“a 
& 


ie 


| 













86 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


surgeon says, I might have trouble with my arm 
if I got careless with it. Mr. Tyson says he 
will pay me for any loss time, so don’t worry 
about me. I'll show up at Seaside Park before 
the week is over with a neat little lot of cash 
in my pocket, and fresh and strong to help get 
the new Wonderland in ship shape order.” 

Thus Pep dismissed the incident of the hour, 
so Randy went “ home,” rather lonesome without 
his chum. Neither guessed for a moment that 
there was to grow out of the circumstance some- 
thing destined to affect their whole business 
career. 





CHAPTER X 


THE PRESS AGENT 

_. “T warpiy know how to thank you, Mr. Vin- 

cent,” spoke Frank Durham: 

“Don’t try to,” replied the ventriloquist, in his 

usual offhand way. 

_ Frank, practically a beginner in the profession, 

_and Hal Vincent, a seasoned graduate, were say- 

ing goodbye to each other on the steps of the 

building which contained the offices and ware- 

; rooms of the great National Film Exchange. 

- For several days the ears of our young hero 
had buzzed with little besides “‘ movies ” chatter. 

‘ When Frank had first gone into the business and 
had bid in at auction the outfit now at Fairlands, 

he had learned the basis of the trade through 

‘ an interesting day spent at a motion picture sup- 

ply house in the small city near his home. He 

found New York on a larger scale, however. 












ven within the few months that had elapsed 
nce he and his chums had started the Wonder- 
d photo playhouse there had been improve- 











ments, Pnavetion: and new eee without | 
number. 

Frank now came in contact with these. Tt was 
a great advantage to him that he had Vincent 
to act as guide and adviser. The latter entered | : 
into the spirit of the occasion with the zest of — 
an expert showing a novice the ground he has 
so often traversed. Vincent was not only active 
and obliging, but he was observant and shrewd. 
He knew the best supply sources in the city and 
how to handle them. 

It embarrassed Frank the first time Vincent, 
in his breezy showman’s way, introduced him to 
the proprietor of the National Film Exchange. 
According to the versatile and voluble ventrilo-— 
quist, Frank and his chums, Randy and Pep, were — 
young prodigies who had built up a mammoth ~ 
photo playhouse enterprise at Fairlands out of 
nothing and had scored a phenomenal success. 4 
And still further, according to Vincent, Frank — 
had secured a most favorable contract at Seaside a 
Park, and was about to reap profits from a pro- a 
ject that would set the pace | in summer outing | 
resorts for the season. SAA: 

“ Now this is confidential, Byllesby,? observed 
Vincent, buttonholing the movies man and assum- 
ing a dreadfully important air, as he glanced mys- 
| teriously about the pte as if fearful of eaves 


a 






















THE PRESS AGENT 89 


roppers—* this is probably one of a chain of 
shows Durham may manage. Don’t lisp it to 


anybody, but one of his backers is a lady—well, 


rt think she is rated at a cool half-million in real 


coin. You won’t have to wait for your money 


from the Durham combination, so hand out only 


the best and latest on the closest terms—under- 
stand?” 


As said, Frank found that even within the six 


months that had passed since he had bought their 
original motion picture outfit science had beta 
busy in the improvement of old and the invention 


of new devices. Kinetoscopes, cameragraphs— 


all the varied list of projecting apparatus had 
progressed fast. It kept his mind on the alert 
to catch the explanations of the newest thing in 
condensing glasses, front and rear; jackets and 
tubes, transformers, shutters, iris dissolvers, knife 
switches and slide carriers. It was all part of an 
education in the line of business activity he had 
adopted, however, and Frank drank in lots of 
knowledge during that New York trip. 


He was full of pleasant anticipation and eager 


| to rejoin his friends at Seaside Park, to go over 
with them his list of the wonderful things pur- 


chased and tell them about the satisfactory ar- 


_rangements he had made for new feature films as 





they, came along. He shook Vincent’s hand 





go PICTURE cuums AT > SBASI ee ; 





heartily i in tne Peat added a Seate or r two, 
telling how he hoped they would see the ventrilo- i 
quist down at Seaside Park soon. ‘ 
| “T have a, fair chance of getting something 
Oa out of the road venture that burst up and letta 
NG me stranded when I ran across Jolly,” explained — 
Vincent. ‘‘ As soon as that is settled, which may — 
_be in less than a week, PIl be down at the new | 
Wonderland—don’t doubt it. Move on a bit; 
a will you, Durham?” Vincent spoke in a quick — 
i -- understone, his eyes fixed on an approaching — 
a pedestrian who at once attracted Frank’s atten- , 
tion. ee 
He was the typical ee out at elbows, but 
showing his consciousness of being “an actor.” 
He wore one rusty glove. The other hand was — 
thrust into the breast of his tightly buttoned boca 
coat. His hair was long, and his hat, once a 
silk tile, was dented and yellowed by usage. : 
Frank’s companion did not escape. The aap. , 
eye of the oncomer was fixed upon him and would 
not leave him. . | ies * 
“Ah, Hal!” he hailed: extending his paved § 
hand with a bow of real elegence—* howdy. 


Ay 


Off ae circuit ? SO. am I. I see you are baat e 








o> 








gI 







ared Reet. bluntly. 
— “T expect a check,’ proceeded the newcomer 
grandly. “ Avericious, but wealthy relative. If — 
I could anticipate till to-morrow, now——” 
s . Not from me, I can tell you that,” interrupted | 
Vincent defiriitely. oie 
4 “Only a dollar. You see . 
_ “A dime wouldn’t make any difference until 
ot get my settlement from the people who sent 
ae out to starve,” insisted Vincent. 
Frank was interested in the odd, airy individ- 
baal, who struck him as a rather obsolete type of 
‘the fraternity. He smiled, and this was en- 
couragement for the frayed actor, who touched 
pps hat again and extended his gloved hand, this 
time towards Frank, with the words: 
“Surely we have met somewhere on the ty 
boards? Was it in Philadelphia, when I was ryt 
‘press agent for the United Thespian? Perhaps | . 















i 






. ee est 





Frank good naturedly accepted and glanced 
ver a very dirty and worn card bearing the in- 
ir droderick’. James.-, Booth: Press 

Frank shook his head, 








92 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE 


‘us. Could you anticipate 








“If you mean of theatricals—hardly,” replied 
Frank. “I have done a little in the motion pies 
ture field.” 

“ Ah!” exclaimed Booth, with a anima- 
tion, striking a pose—“ there, indeed, is a field. 
Young man; I proclaim a wonderful future for 
the photo playhouse. Let me see, where are you 
located now—and the name, I didn’t quite catch 
the name? ” 

*““T am Frank Durham,” replied our young 
hero, “and with some others expect to open a 
new motion picture show at Seaside Park.” — 

“Ah, a hit! Think of it! Beside the sooth- 
ing waves, dancing breezes, vast throngs, stupen- 
dous profits. Only one thing lacking—an able 
press agent. Sir,’ and Booth raised himself to 
his loftiest height, “I papered Baltimore till the 
house was jammed. The United Thespians— 
sir, a moment, aside. Mr. Vincent will pardon 


39 


— 





Frank knew what was coming. The man did 
not look like a drinker.and he did look hungry. 
Vincent nudged Frank warningly, but ‘Frank 
could not resist a generous impulse. : 

Mr. Booth almost danced as a crisp dollar bill 
was placed in his hand. Then he took out a pen- 
cil and memorandum book. Very uals and 


ii he Desay to write: Pe 










‘THE PRESS AGENT 93 


ne Pixciacn, cas Park. I. O. U. one us 
Mem: suggest plan for publicity campaign.” 
_ “You've put your foot in it this time, Dur- 
ham,” exclaimed Vincent almost wrathfully, as 
with a great flourish Booth went on his way 

_ “Oh, pshaw!” laughed Frank, “the poor fel- 
low probably needs a square meal.” 
_ “Yes, but you needn’t have told him who you 
were and about the new Wonderland. Why, 
within an hour he will be telling his friends of a 
new opening at Seaside Park—engaged for the 
‘season—forfeit money already paid. Besides 
that, I wouldn’t wonder to see him put in an ap- 
‘pearance personally with one of his wild publicity 
schemes direct at Seaside Park. Oh, you can 
laugh, but once he sets out on your trail, and you 
encourage him, you'll find it no easy matter to 
‘shake him off,” a prediction by the way that 
Frank and his chums had reason to recall a little 
hater. 

Frank was in fine spirits when he reached Sea- 

Bide Park. Everything had gone famously with 
him in the city. .He had been introduced to a 
‘man who operated a string of summer resort 
motion picture shows, and he had gleaned an im- 
‘mense amount of information. The man had re- 
d uced his special line to a science and had made 

oney at it, and Frank was greatly encouraged. 





Prigeigsst 
eye 





Noa PICTURE CHUMS- AT S 


It was late in the afternoon whew he starte ed 
from the depot for the new quarters. He was 
pleased and satisfied as his eye ran over the front 
of the old store. Various touches of paint had 
made the entrance attractive, the broad windows 
aa bore each a fine plain sign, and a very ornamental 
si ticket booth was in place. Frank found the front 
want doors partially open, and passed the length of 
the great room to come unawares upon his 
friends in the living quarters at the rear. 
“Good!” shouted a familiar voice, and Ben 
Jolly, wearing a kitchen apron and just getting 
supper ready, waved a saucepan over his head i in 
jubilant welcome. : Ne 
e e “I say, you pcr have been doing some work 
oes here since I left,” cried Frank, as he shook. hands 
with Randy. “ Why, where is Pep?” 
“There’s a story to that,’ explained Randy. 
“He’s safe and sound, but may not be here fill 
to-morrow or the next day.” 
“Gone home to see his ‘folks? “ “hazarded 
Frank. Whe 
‘No, not that,” disceated Randy. ne Tell ey 
Frank, it’s quite a long story. Suppose we ‘get 
the meal on the table, and seated Betcesuie > 
and we'll allhave alot totell;eh?” 
“ Just the thing,” voted Jolly ithe his u 
enthusiasm. “I’ve got a | famous rice pu 






























Ba a s just what I will,” agreed Peanle 
He sat down and busied himself sorting some 


bills and circulars with which his pockets were 


filled. Then, as the smoking viands were placed 
on the table, he joined his friends. 

“ Now then, Durham, you first,” directed Jolly. 
2 How’s the New York end of the proposition? ” 
_ “Famous,” reported Frank heartily. “ I’ve 
im ade some fortunate discoveries and investments 
2 pass the potatoes; will you, Randy?” 

: 


— 
righty 


“ Hold on!” cried a familiar voice—‘ I’m on> 


the peeranine for some of that, too!” 


ae 
a 
- mee “al 




















CHAPTER XI 
CROSSED WIRES 


. Wry, hello, Pep!” exclaimed Frank i in joy: ol 

_ ful surprise, jumping up from the table and greet- 
ing the missing chum with a hearty handshake. 

_ “Hold on—go a little easy on that hand, 4h 
spoke the unexpected guest. “ It’s the one ig hurt 
in that automobile accident, you know, and 1 not 
quite as strong as it used to be,” i ee 
“ What automobile accident? e inquired Fran kK 

in | surprise. | ts A 
pe Oh. thats: say peice in oes ae 
ets Frank has just got back ae the ee and ae 




















7 ton until Saturday.” a a aie cee | 
ott Humph! Had to,” aioe | 
grimace. a Y a malty cS Ee 
“ How is that?” a) Ja 





: gry a asa ae and had to walk eight miles to get 
here before dark, and I'll feel better natured when 
T ve had something to eat and a little rest.” 
Ben Jolly arched his eyebrows in an inquiring 
way and Randy looked Pep over sharply. Jolly 
had just returned from Fairlands that morning, 
‘and Randy had heard from Pep by mail only 
twice during his sojourn at the Tyson home at 
‘Brenton. From all he had learned and seen dur- 
‘ing his brief visit there, Randy had been led to 
believe that Pep would return with waving colors. 
He would not only be mended up, as Randy had 
reason to figure it out, but would have a com- 
fortable sum of money representing lost time. 
Pep, however, did not look like a favorite of 
fortune. He used both hands with equal celerity 
in dispatching the meal, and his injured wrist 


seemed to give him no inconvenience or pain. 


‘His face was glum, however, and when he spoke 


of being “fired”” Randy ey that something 


was up. 
Be Teall”: us about this accident of yours, Pep? 


urged Frank as all hands got over the first 


-promptings of appetite. 

“Randy will,” snapped Pep. 
_ Randy was agreeable to the suggestion. He 

was glad to descent on the heroism of his chum, 








d dwelt mea: upon the bravery of Pep i in 3% 








98 PICTURE CHUMS AT seasiDe PAR. 


fine ee 


risking his tite! for the little child in the baby 
carriage. Randy led the course of the narrative — 
to his visit to Brenton, the peculiar situation in — 
which he found Pep, and detailed the contents » 
of the two letters he had received from their abe 4 
sent partner. 4 
* Well, Pep,” hailed Frank heartily, at the end. 
of the story. “I suppose you’ve turned out an — 
adopted son or great favorite wtih thie Mr. oe 
son.” re 
Pep had just finished a second netpine of # 
Jolly’s famous rice pe and was Teady to 4 
talk now. | | tim 
“Oh, yes, I have! See me! he wetorked S as 
scornful and disgusted way. ‘“‘ Say, the next fel 
low who plays me*for an invalid will be a good — 
one, I tell you. It’s all right up to where Randy 
left me in the arms of luxury at the Tyson resi 
dence. Yes, it was all right for two days after * 
that. Then I got into my usual trim—restless. 
Of course I couldn’t work with my bad arm, but | 
it didn’t bother me a bit. I told Mr. Tyson so. 
He spoke to that old fogy surgeon — of his and § 
after a regular battle we came to terms.” | 
“What terms, Pep?” inquired Frank. nas 
“I wanted something to do. I was dead 
Vaart a hanging around ae no NEES seem : 


























{> 


des CF ina pcs Sos —s | 
















ex CROSSED WIRES 


pe, 
a Branch. Me a hie Wall Street concern in New My 
York City. They do some business, too, and he ns 


hires a lot of clerks. Well, the surgeon said that. 

as long as I didn’t use my bad arm it was all 

right, so old Tyson takes me down to the office. ' 

First day he put me at the information desk. 

Then the boy who held that position regularly 

eame back and he set me at one of the tele- 
phones.” : 

_ “What doing, Pep?” inquired Jolly, 

- Taking quotations and orders on the long dis- 
tance. The ’phone was arranged on a standard _ xf 
and I didn’t have to handle it at all. Ihadapad © 
of paper at my side. All I had to do was to write 
out the quotations, or orders. Then I, would 
touch an electric bell and a boy would take them 
to the manager.” | 

“Sort of stock exchange business; eh?” pro- 
ried Jolly. 3 fas 

“Yes, that way, assented Pep. ‘“ The first 
day I got through grandly. Old Tyson told me I ) 
had the making of a smart man in me and advised rh te 
‘me to cut away from the movies and become a 
second Vanderbilt. They kept me at the ’phone Bs, 
yesterday, too. It’s too bad they did,” added 
Pep greviously. “I reckon they think so now.” 

_ “Explain, Pep,” urged the curious Randy. 

ie ve, ppout two | O eae in the afternoon there _ 






















00 PICTURE ‘cHUMS AT 


was a rush of business. Eee in vee otice| 
was busy. I heard the manager say that it looked 
like a regular Black Friday, whatever that was, 
the way stocks and bonds were being juggled. 
Right when everything was going at lightning 
speed and the office was in a turmoil, long dis- 
tance says: ‘Buy for Vandamann account at 
twenty ’"—and then there was a hiss and a jangle 
—crossed wires—see? ”’ | 2 ; 

Pep’s engrossed auditors nodded silently, eager 
to hear the remainder of his story. ~~ 

“Then I got the balance of the order—as i 
_ supposed— ‘one thousand shares Keystone Cen- 
tral.’ Orders came piling up and I had all I 
could do to write them down. ‘Buy one thou- 
sand Keystone Central at twenty’ went to the 
manager with the rest. I thought no more of it 
until this morning. I was at my ’phone thinking 
of how I’d be home with the rest of you Satur- 
day, when the manager, mad as a hornet, came to 
me. ‘You see Mr. Tyson just as quick a3) you 
ean,’ he snapped at me, and I did. Mr. Tyson 
had just found out that I had mixed orders. — 
talked about crossed wire, but he wouldn’t heat 
aword of it. ‘ The idea of loading us down te 
that bustling stock at ea ne it was see ‘ 





3 








ie, and I’m a bloated bondholder.” 
p drew a little package of green and yellow 
uments from his pocket. He flung them on 
table in a disgruntled way. Ben Jolly pie 
m up and looked them over. 

Heard of the Keystone Central,’ he ob- 
ed—“lot of watered stock and new people 
ng to squeeze out the old shareholders. 

ybe a few dollars in these, Pep.” : B. 
3ut the disgusted Pep waved documents ie ge 
ark away with disdain. Pes 
surn ‘em up; throw ‘em away—don’t care 
you do with them,” he declared. “I am 
: of the whole business. I want to forget how 
‘a poey makes a millionaire, and just get 
into the gladness and bustle of the old mo- 





















pers. “I'll just take care of the docu- 
for you ea ney bob up in a new way — 







aes Mr. Golly? ” here interrupted Frank. 
ats so—my Sha is se isn’t it? Why, 





Seater Waa ieee was in yer ie and expect 
they'll arrive to-morrow or the next day.” 
“ By rail, of course? ”’ | oe 
** Oh, yes. It’s a ibe distances there sa Tot 
of bad roads and hills to climb, and freight was 
the only way. I left the chairs. It would cost 
as much to move them as they were worth.” __ 
‘““We had better stock es new as to the seat- 
ing feature,” said Frank, “seeing that we need | 
double what we had at Fairlands. Well, boys, | 
now fo show you what I have accomplished.” 
Frank had done so much that he held their 
fascinated attention unbroken for well nigh an 
hour. Jolly smiled and nodded his approval as 
Frank told in detail of his negotiations with the 
supply houses in the city. Pep’s eyes snapped _ 
with anticipation of the brilliant way in which the) 
new Wonderland was going to open. ae 
“Tt looks all smooth sailing; doesn’t it now?” ot 
Randy submitted in his optimistic ig : 





CROSSED WIRES 103 


Oh, of course, of course,’ responded Pep, 
“only every day counts. Before we know it 
someone else will break in and get all the cream 
off the proposition.” : 

“No, no, friend Pep,” laughed Ben Jolly con- 
fidently. “We've got too good a start in the 
movies race at Seaside Park, and we’re bound to 


2 93 


will. 


CHAPTER XII 


BUSINESS RIVALS 


* Put the brake on, Pep!” sang out Rand -. 

“What's the trouble now?” inquired Ben 
Jolly. “ Someone trying to kidnap you again? ” 

Frank, Randy and Jolly, on their way to see 
about their goods at the freight house, had scat- 
tered precipitately as a bounding figure turned 
street corner and almost crashed into them @ 

‘Glad I found you. Say, what did if ‘tell 
you?” exclaimed the youthful sprinter. “ You 
come with me and L 1 show you, ache! that 
will open your eyes.” On 

“Later, Pep,’ said Franke « We are on. ‘ol our 
way to arrange for carting the A from. Fair. 
lands up to the playhouse.” f ee 

“It won’t take a minute,’ daunted: Pea 

only a block or two away. Say, you'd b “4 

come. I'll show ie a Ge that, will “set 5 
thinking.” 


ae ey Frank indueenaas et 


M eet co t t foes 















ep lated the group in his usual impetuous 
. Quite a busy boardwalk diverged from the 
in boardwalk thoroughfare, and some minor 


res and restaurants of the cheaper class occu- 
pied the first block. . pe 
About midway of the square was a vacant ae 
ling, once a dime museum. Frank and his 

ends had noticed this in their search for a. 
usiness location. It was off the main routeof = 
vel, however, and the building was old, ram- i: 
ickly and set down from the street level, the | : 
yt lying in a depression in the ground so that ae 


had to descend three steps to the entrance. 





ead Randy—“* ‘ National’ 


i. The mischief!” axclaiand Randy O 
“Say,” remarked Jolly, bristling up at this 3 
hint of rivalry, “we want to get busy.” 4 
“Oh, it doesn’t alarm me,” spoke Frank. “In — 
the first place it is off the mainly traveled route. — 
Besides, the neighborhood is cheap and I would — 
imagine they wouldn’t get more than a nickel.” 
“It’s worth looking up—always keep track of | 
what your competitors are doing,” advised Jolly. 
“Why I say,” suddenly remarked Frank— 4 
“their sign is wrong.” y Kee 
“How wrong?’ questioned Randy, Ht then q 
he added: “ That’s so: ‘NATONAL.’ They’ve 
left out an I.” 3 (a 
“It’s so,” cried Pep, “ maybe they bought some : q 
second hand letters and there wasn’t any I’s in a 
the lot.” : Ban 
““Big New York fellow, i steered: Jolly. 4 
thoughtfully. “Wonder who he is? Maybe — 
you stirred things up in the city, Durham, cand 
started somebody on our trail.” ee : 
“Well, we must expect crea Ga, | replied 
| Frank “Tt shan’t scare us.’ , 
No, we'll stick to a first-class basis and be the 
feaden.? declared Randy. © 2 
“You fellows go on, 


tf 


spoke Foon a “ri te 


99 


yey Spy out the baleihs s pti ie 


























ISINESS RIVALS” 


U: bb ter auecaiy A) ¢: 
N ational ’ pate on Paine ’ said Frank, and 
they turned about and resumed their way to the 
freight depot, leaving Pep to his own devices. — 
_ Pep was not afraid to venture anywhere or ad- 
dress anybody. He was inside the old building 

nd had accosted the man he had seen outside ~ 
within five minutes after his friends left him. 

‘he man knew all about the proposed extensive 

? ‘refitting of the old barn of a place, but did not 

~ know who was backing the new show outside of 

_a big man from New York and a party with 
noney at Seaside Park. Pep pumped him dry 
so far as the arrangements for the show were ee 
concerned. 4 eee 
“Hello, Pep,” hailed him just as he went out- A, 
ide again. ake 


: te was in a fiery mood just now, but as he recog-- ae 
nized young Peter Carrington and noticed that _ ie 
e€ was Jicaded for the building he had just left, reg 










“Well, that’ s all right,” observed Peter in his aie 
al airy manner— been into my show?” 5 
be poue show! re | 






















ne at Pep in a patronizing ‘sort on wa 
“Oh, I see,” said Pep, “you're the SN, 
Park capitalist I heard about?” , 
a “Did some one honest say that?’ inquired 
* Peter, his vanity immensely gratified. “ Well, 
| I have invested something—got a little money 
from my aunt, although she doesn’t know that — 
I’ve gone into the show business. She'd be mad 
_ if she knew I was going to set up opposition to 
you fellows, for she likes you. Business is busi- 
ness, though. You fellows wouldn’t take me in — 
and I had to get some other partners; didn’t I?” 
he “Who are your partners?” ae Pep in- q 
- nocently. eee 
“Well, one of them is ; Greg Grayson. He's 
from your town. You know him?” a 
: “ Slightly,” assented toe: his lips Hae es fot @ 
. gether grimly. " q 
“A friend of his has invested something, too,” 4 
rambled on the effusive Peter. “ Our mainstay, _ : 
though, isa New York man. They say he’ s ‘way a 
up in the moving picture line.” 
“ What is his name?” pressed Pep. 2 
“Mr. John Beavers—ever hear of him? By 
“1 don't think T have<. 7 98 Se ae : 
© That’s because you’re new in. tha es. | 
hs declared Peter. “ He says he’s the first man whe 
aan ever Started | a ence: picbate show.” | 


oe eS 





























, Bio : a angele 1 cee Ota S ” insinuated Pep. 
Well, he’s got a lot of investments that have 
ed up his ready cash, he says, but he will stand 
ack of us if we need more money.” 

“Weill,” said Pep, “I must be moving on. 
‘The more the merrier, you know.” 

 “T must tell you,” hurried on Peter—‘* We’re 
oing to have two private boxes in our show.” 
“What for?” 

“Oh, to make a hit. Friends, members of the 
_ press and ‘all that—see? I say, Smith, I hope 
: yon re going to ee professional courte- 
sies.” 

“What do you mean?” demanded Pep. _ 
_“Complimentaries, and all that.” ; 
“JT don’t think we are going to have any com- 
plimentaries,” 





pact, as he left the spot. “ Why, he hasn’t 








friends were leaving it. They had arranged for 





replied Pep. “Our space will be — 
or sale; not to give away. That fellow run a 
hoto playhouse!” snorted Pep wrathfully to 


Pep. reached the freight house just as. fue et 


e reception and delivery of their traps from 
‘Fairlands to the new playhouse. This meant busy 
et mes, getting in order to open up for business. 
) told of his new discoveries as to the personr 

























110 PICTURE. CHUMS AT SEAS. 


nel of the rival fin oF the s « Natonal’ a Vande i 
flared up at once. et 
“Tt’s half spite work,” he deoaten eoL his 
Peter is mad because we wouldn’t take him into 
our scheme and Greg Grayson owes us a grudge, 
or fancies he does, and wants to pay it back. He 
and his cronies were always ready for any mean 
mischief back at Fairlands.” ark. 
_ “Oh, well, as long as it is fair business tive | 
alry, who cares?” submitted Jolly. “From the 
start they’ve made I don’t think they will last q 
oh ay long.” | 4 
ee They will do all they. can to annoy us while a 
they do,” declared Pep. a 
Mane “Did you tell youne Carrington about the | 
: missing letter in the ‘ Natonal’ sign, Pep?” ine | 
quired Frank. | a 

(ONO; I drdnit replied Pep, ungraciously. ae 
“Think I’m around mending his blunders? — 
Humph! guess not. If I had, do you know what a: 
he would have said? ” | Aaa 
ONO ;. what, Pepe? ‘Pressed Randy, with, “7 a 
ee broad grin. An 
Pe cele d Saye On: yes, ‘that’s SO. PRON, 
can see it’s spelled wrong. Didn’t notice it be- 
fore. Of course it should be “Natonel.”’” 
All hands laughed at Pep’s sally. Then Frank 












ESS RIVALS — 


ina dae 2 4 


: did you ever hear of this John Redvers Mr. ; 





2” Tp 
Never did, Durham. I wonder ‘where the os 
wd picked him up? Don’t think he’s a no- 4 
though. Judging from the way he’s letting 

m hold the bag, I reckon he isn’t much of a . 
hey emerged upon the boardwalk as Jolly bar 
acluded his remarks, Pep was the first to ~ a 
scover a commotion amid the crowds ahead. 
There’s some new excitement,” he cried. 
et’s hurry up and se what it is.” - “Ap ee 
ust then a man dashed Espen the throng f 





vidual, fast overtaking him ala shouting as he 
sf on inted : 


CHAPTER XIII 


ALL READY! 


Tur man in advance hanpened to cross a wet 
streak on the walk just as Frank and his friends | 
observed him. This was caused by the overflow 
of a combination drinking fountain and horse | 
trough. The man slipped and went flat. In an- 
other minute, as he struggled to his feet, his pur- 
suer pounced upon him. | 
— “Why, look! Look!” ejaculated Pep. 

“It’s Hal!” echoed Ben Jolly. 

Frank and Randy recognized their friend the 
ventriloquist simultaneously. The former was a a 
good deal surprised, for he had bade Vincent 
good-bye in New York City within the past” 
forty-eight hours. He wondered what chad 
Picuset Vincent to Sean Park; and more ‘an 


" might mean. Bini’ 


“Tve got you; have TP i ice ee t 
making a grab at the fugitive and seizing him 7 
the arm. Then he whirled ee n 1 

















“reputation, you miserable ath) 


= 4 a a chase; Mien: t you, AGler all I did for 

3 rou! I made up my mind, though, I’d find you 

and get back my po, if} had to chase you 

half over the country.” | 
“ Return coat in private—secluded spot.” rayet 
“Take it off now!” i 
‘Leaves me without any.” 

* Take it off!” fairly yelled Vincent. Then, 

as the man obeyed he wrenched it from his grasp, 

threw it to the pavement and grasping the fugi- 
tive by the shoulders, ran him straight up to the ye 
tering trough. ye 
Splash! splash! splash! * Ooo—oof! Leggo! © oe 
Murder! ”’—a wild riot of sounds made the wel- 
ring. ‘A’ fast-gathering mob bustled nearer. 
‘ipping, hatless, coatless, the helpless fugitive 
S given a shove down the sidewalk by Vincent, 
10 caened As confronted a police officer. — 






















- name is Jack Beavers. 4 wae 












saved you that, That. fel slinkdng | out oH 
sight between those two Hee stole my coat 
and I’ve got it back—that’s all’ | | 
i Asthier seh es a 
“Oh, he’s out of sight and I’m esha ad-— 
vised Vincent. “I gave him free lodging sada 
feed in the city and he paid me back by robbing — 
me. We’re square now and no need of your 
services, thank you. By the way, though, you 
‘might glimpse him so as to be able to keep track | 
of him. He’s a slippery customer to. have in aM 
town where there’s even door mats or lawn 
-mowers lying around loose.” \ 
Frank had picked up the coat oe the pave-_ | 
ment where Vincent had flung it and he now 
offered it to him. : | (a 
“That you, Durham?” hailed the agi q 
quist, mopping him perspiring brow—“ and the - 
rest of the crowd? Howdy—I declare, I was 
ruffed. I can stand anything but ingratitude.” 
“ Who is the fellow, anyway?” inquired Jolly 
_ “Oh, he’s been a hanger-on at the aah f 
a sponge and dead beat for a tons Hers 

































. Nea S inary * cried cee barely | 


















What new show?” inquired Vincent, quickly. 
_ Pep told of the prospective photo playhouse 

that had come to their attention that day. 
“Say,” exclaimed Vincent, belligerently, when er 
the information had been accorded. “I'll follow 
his up and put that fellow out of business.” te 
“JT wouldn’t trouble, Mr. Vincent,” said Frank. 

We don’t want to give Carrington and his 
tiends any excuse for claiming we are perse-_ Dig 
uting them. If this man is the kind of fellow 
ou describe, he will soon run himself out.” a 
_“ And them, too,” declared Jolly. 7 | 
“Birds of a feather—all of them,” commented 7 


Vincent explained that he was due to return at 
nce to the city. He expected to have his clam 
gainst the company that had stranded him and 
wed him money come up in court at any time, 
nd wanted to be on hand to present his evidence. 
“he boys, however, prevailed upon him to accom- 
any them home and have at least one good, old- 
shioned meal with them. Then they all went ioe 
with him to his train. ee. 
he ieee to see you soon Bea Hal,” remarked f 












1 


apace nt veores 






















arms of a ale old man jus Uedhae NORE of <4 
me a coach arched its back at the well-counterfeited 
: -, imitation of the ventriloquist, while its mistress a 
Bye tan up the steps in a violent flurry. © sad 
f “Let me out—let me out!” came next, ap- ! 
parently from a big sample case a colored porter 
was carrying for a traveling salesman. Down 1 
came the case with a slam and the porter stood — 
regarding it with distended eyes and seiees . 
me whace: rat CUNO a 
ans “‘ Lawsy sakes, boss!” he puignee wah you ou 
: done got in dere?” and very gingerly and rap- — 
idly he carried the case into the coach when ae 
vailed upon to do so ey its somewhat startled © 
owner. * _ 
Then with a smile the yeretiie wien jumped 
ty Ned of the train, waving his hand epee in 
adieu to his smiling friends. 5 
“A jolly good fellow, that,” connate: 
_ Frank, as the train pulled out. “TI only hope we 
will be able to afford to engage his is for the i. 
; new Wonderland.” oe Sh CS ; 
“ You've just got to,’ t youitens lad 1 Pep. <e Fete: 
aes regular Seapine card and a a show all in him- 
ote And now. came the real. work» 


= 
















ALL READY! 117 


picture chums. The new photo playhouse was all 
ready for the outfit, and when that was brought 
from the freight house there was plenty of lift- 
ing, carrying and placing to attend to. The big 
electric sign had to be reset and adjusted, the 
sheet iron booth for the machine put in place, 
and for four days there were a multitude of little 
things to accomplish. 

Jolly got track of a closed show at Brenton 
where the chairs were for sale and drove an ex- 
cellent bargain in their purchase, and also in the 
delivery. 

It was Thursday night when for the first time 
the electric lights were turned on, so the boys 
could see how the playhouse “ showed up,” as 
they expressed it. They all went out in front, 
Jolly turning the switches from inside. To the 
excited vision of the enthusiastic Pep the result 
was a burst of glory. The sign came out boldly. 
The many windows of the building, standing 
alone by itself as it did, made Randy think of 2 
palace. ’ 

Frank was more than pleased. He was proud 
_ of his playhouse, proud of his loyal friends and 
deeply gratified as a crowd began to gather and 
he overheard their flattering and encouraging 
comments. 

“Why, I saw that blaze three blocks down the 




















us PICTURE CHUMS SATs | 


street,” declared a breathless urchin, ‘coming wp 4 
on a run. : 
“Yes, it was so bright I thought it was a a fie,” a 
echoed a companion. ae 
It was arranged that the three chums should ao 
visit their hone town next morning. Jolly was’ 4 
left in charge of the playhouse and told them to — 
| have a good time and throw all care from their 5 
minds, as he would be able to complete all the — 
Rata arangements for the opening Monday night. " 
The boys had a splendid time at Pe 
They were highly elated over their business prog- 
ress in the new venture and infused their families 4 
and friends with their own enthusiasm and de- 4 
light. The Fairlands weekly paper printed a nice © 
article about “Three Rising Young aaeeee 
Men of Our Town,” and altogether as they — 
took the train to return to Seaside Park each ~ 
one of the trio felt that life was worth living ) 
_and honorable business SUCCESS a boon well worth ; 
striving for. y 
“And now for the grandest event of. ‘our 
eee ” announced Pep, ba the Cpenine 
> | “Night!” MRR ae ss” 


a 
et 





fs 
hee 
Ng 
2 













| 
CHAPTER XIV 


“THE GREAT UNKNOWN” 


creen of the new photo playhouse. 
Pep bustled about, broke into whistling and 


Ben Jolly. The latter was quite as interested as 


Pep in the doings of the day, only he concealed 
oo the true state of his feelings. He set about mak- — 
g preparations for breakfast as an excuse for 
using Frank and Randy. ; 
“Well, Pep, this is the big day of our lives; 
eh?” propounded the good-natured cook, while 
1 is accommodating assistant pee setting the bye 

| th . finest ever seen,’ Veet eRe 















for the evening breeze, and that means we 
passing our place until late” = gh 
It was a jolly quartette that sat Swi at the 
table about five o’clock. The rest over Sunday 
had done them all good. No details had been left 

_ to chance or haste. Much satisfaction was felt — 
in the knowledge that all the work thus far had 
‘been done well, with no. loose ends to bother 
‘about when the programme began. ey 
| “ There’s some song posters to put ‘up—they 
M are due in the morning mail,” observed Randy. — 
Yes, and if that new film winder is sent along 
we might install it in place of the old one we 
ee from Fairlands,’ suggested Jolly. ye a 
















we dad better,” assented Bran 

had better see that the films run smooth.” e 

- “T sent for a piano- tuning key to the ue Sat 

urday,” said Jolly. ‘As soon as I get it i will 
_ give the instrument a little overhauling. -Jolting ‘a 
- over one hundred stiles in a. Rae car doesn’ 4 
improve the tone any.” as RES haan 











_ o'clock to get some © posters Ps 


heh 
















satisfactory to themselves. 
if Wonder what the National people are think- — 


down " eee : BAe 
_ “ They are going to open to-night—that’s one ae 
thing I know,” reported Pep. 2 | fie 
_ They’re not making much stir about it, then,” 
| observed Jolly. ‘I haven’t heard anybody speak 

_ about it, whom I ran across to-day.” | 

_ “JT met the man who is doing their electrical 
work,” said Pep. “ He and I are quite chummy. — 
He told me they were in a fearful mix-up, with _ 
- things half provided for, but that they would — 
surely open this evening. tae 
_ “What's it to be—a nickel? ” inquired Jolly. 
4 No a dime, he says; but he showed me a 
- Bunch ‘of complimentaries and laughed and said 
ee oe them cheap. I haven't set on eyes on id 


































in with the workman to get 1 thine in Noete 
Wednesday of the week previous a neat postal 
card telling of the new photo playhouse had been 
‘sent out to every name in the little local directory 
of Seaside Park. The hotel men had taken a 
bunch of these and had agreed to put one in the 
mail of each guest. The local paper happened f 
to be an exchange of the Fairlands weekly, and 
the editor of the latter had given Frank a letter 
of introduction to the Seaside Park publisher. — 
i. As a result, the latter had copied the article about ; 
the chums from the home paper and had also — 
given a glowing description of the new playhouse _ 
on the beach. Vane 
It was about two o'clock in the afieniogn when | f 
ats os * the lively Pep came into the Bee with a new a 
excitement on his mind. a 
Say, fellows,” he announced, “ we’ re eae 
beat out.” 
“ Hi! what’s up now?” aahor Ben oe 
ce "The National without z an : ee Bor: us going. 
















nade 


for our ee free concert to- sige! rei 
Nias te that so—hum!”” observed Jolly, cial 
Weeds wish I’d thought ofthat. as suppose we 0 
| to make s some fhe noise the openin : 






rehearsal A.1.,” declared Jolly with a thrilling 
reep of the piano: keys as the three films were 

eled off from the operator’s booth. “ Slow on 

at last picture, though, Durham. It’s a good | 

ne and any audience will be Bee to see it pro- ere 


39 















i of real salt ae blowing right into the 
note, Lee Saat 


oceeded oie “ Eh? What’s that? ae ae : a 
it’s me. What is it, lad?” ria 
eet boy from the hotel had oe 









He delivered a note to that 
The latter read it, his face breaking | 
delighted s, ee ; 
























4 124 PICTURE cuums AT St 


oe Say. my iseniee he Re hy seizin 
hat and rushing unceremoniously from their c 
pany, cach call, important though nent 
Back soon,” and Jolly chuckled and waved | his 
hand gaily. | ee 
He was all smiles and still chuckling (hea h 
returned, which was in about an hour. They hae 
decided on an early supper so as to have plenty 
of leisure to look over things before the play- 
house opened, at half past six o’clock. ‘As a 
starter, they planned to give three entertainmen Ss, 
each beginning on the hour. | wy 
“You seem to feel pretty good, Mr. Jolly?” 
observed Randy, as they dispatched the appetiz: 
ing meal, their helpful friend Pe ove r 
with comical sayings. | 
**Oh, I’ve got to live up to my name, yi 
know,” explained Jolly. “Besides, alw. 
dreaming, you see. Been dreaming this af 
noon of Die houses, delighted throngs, pleasan 
surprises,” and the speaker emphasized the 
word, looking mysterious the while. 
- Frank and Randy, full of the theme of. ‘th 
hour and its practical demands upon their a 
ities, did not notice this particularly. Pep, h 
ever, eyed Jolly keenly. He lingered as his cht 
got up from the table. Somehow the exa 
‘ ima a jolltty, of their ve to Pep’ 


eee, 



























ae given to indulging a very lively Fahey 
ow he went up to Jolly. Very searchingly 
fixed his eye upon the piano player. Very 
emnly he picked up one of Jolly’s hands and 
yked up the arm of his coat. 

" “Hello! ” challenged Jolly—“ what you up to 
now, you young skeesicks?” 

F* Oh, nothing,” retorted Pep—* just thought 
ike to see ee you've got Be your sleeve, as 
saying goes.” Epis. 
Ah,” smiled Jolly—“ suspect something; do aes 


Got a ‘right to; haven’ Ko Gee questioned Pep, 
a 





he Gest Unknown,” replied Ben Jolly, 
h an enigmatical Siniles 2. | 


poe 


CHAPTER XV 


THE SPEAKING. RICTURE 


PEP was “on 1 pins and needles ” over the mys- 
terious remark of Ben Jolly as to “ The Great 
Unknown.” His friend was good natured abo 
the matter, but parried all further. questio. 
Then all hands at the new Wonderland beca 
absorbed in their respective duties as partners anc 
helpers in making the opening night of sunk ven - 
ture a pronounced success. | ; 

Randy could not resist the temptation ie taking 
a run past the National. He came back with 

his face on a broad grin. ae 


was the report. “ a could see Cre and 
mea about inside, Eye ine) 











Bt Pep?” inquired Jolly. 
bout their band. Bet you it's those four 





a it clear across the front of the Hataanee 
ads in big red letters, ‘Grand Opening.’ 





1a as could be. 





oe can imagine where er: 


8 PICTURE. CHUMS: Ar SEASIDE PAR. 


wi 


Pep kept his watch in ‘on hand and his e | 
fixed upon it most of the time for the next hall 
hour. He almost counted the seconds in his i 
patience to see operations begin. He strolled 
restlessly between the living room where his 
: friends sat conversing, to the front of the ana 


ress at each trip: . 

“Lot of people looking over the place. : 

*“ Quite a crowd strolling by as if hanging 
around just waiting to get into the show. = 

“Dozen children in line waiting to buy tickets 

“Looks to me as if the people are heading 
from the beach in this. direction. Hope we et 1 be : 
able to handle the crowds. en 

“ Say, Frank, it’s twenty minutes ay six.”” 

“ The crowds will keep, Pep,” said Frank with 
a smile. ‘ We’ve got to follow up a sae y u 
know.” 3 

“ For mercy’s sake, wt is that!” of “shou 
Randy, suddenly. | jena: ei 

There had swept in through the open a 
upon the evening breeze a strange—a startling: 
series of sounds: “ Ump! Ump!” “ Bla-aat b 
_aat,” “ Flar-op, fae oo < ‘Tootle-tootle ” —a d 


Es 

















cING PICTURE : We ee 


1 ‘hold rie ss peed Randy, going into con- 
ns of laughter—“ it’s that Little German 


his seemed true, for they could trace the 
yurce Of the music after a moment ortwo. They  —| 
oceeded from the neighborhood of their busi- 17 
rival. How they might sound directly at jay 
source it was difficult to surmise. Arising © 
om the hollow in which the National was lo- 
ed, they lacked all acoustic qualities, like a 
d playing into a funnel. 

Twenty-seven minutes and a half after six,’ 
ared Pep abruptly. 

, All ppet ” nodded Lak arising son se 


“e, a sharp, clear its call. ie 
Ahem!” observed Ben Jolly, with significant ee 
asis. aie 
ank and Randy stood stock still. They were 
ane and entranced, for after Ae rol- — 


130 PICTURE 


clear and expressive notes eee a oaster of the | 
cornet. The hour, the scene were in harm 
with the liquid notes that gushed forth like gol ¢ 
beads dropped into a crystal dishy NA 
The wondering Pep, as if in a spell, move : 
noiselessly down the aisle and looked out through 
a window: Standing at the extreme inner edge 
of the walk was the cornetist. He wore a neat 
military costume. His close bearded face made 
Pep think of photographs he had seen of the 
leader of a noted military band. From | every 
direction the crowds were gathering. | The y 
blocked the walk and the beach beyond it. — 
hush showed the appreciation of this’ enchant 1 
audience until the tune was finished. — ‘Then 
air was filled with acclamations. i, 
“Friend of mine—it’s all right. “Thought 
sort of offset that brass band down at the | 
tional,” sang out Ben Jolly at the Meee and o 





sleeve.” “ All recity see ae eae ay 
1 UA. chorus: of S Ah’'st and hee Mes i 
forth as the electric sign and then the whole f 










| bi in that he was all smiles and made every- 
5 ody feel at ease instead of awed. Wonderland 
could not have opened at a more favorable mo- 
ent. A better advertisement than the cornet \ 
solo’ could not have been devised. The crowd 
tracted by the music lingered, and most of them ie 
ided to take in the show. J alien 
Nearly every seat in the house was ON a8 (0p aan 
jolly began the overture. As the electric bell an- a ae 
f ounced the darkening of the room Pep had to 
unt for vacant chairs. 
Pep was particularly attentive to Bahe cornetist, 
who. entered the playhouse after giving asecond 
tune on his instrument. . a re 












1 e second was an airship specialty and went off 
ery well. The feature film of the series was _ 
A Wrecker’s Romance.” It had just enough 

ol ee catch with the audience. There was 








132 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


rainswept beach staring into the depths for some 
sign from the belated ship; It was here that Ben 
Jolly adapted the slow, striking music to the 
progress of the story. 

Suddenly the lone figure on the beach lifted his 
hands to his lips, formed into a human speaking 
trumpet. 

The audience, rapt with the intensity of the 
incident, were breathlessly engrossed. They 
could anticipate his forlorn call amid that deso- 
late scene. , 

And then something remarkable happened. 
Apparently from those moving lips, distant but 
clear — resonant and long-drawn-out — thrilling . 
every soul in the audience with its naturalness 
and intensity, there sounded the words: 

“Ship ahoy!” 























CHAPTER XVI 
A GRAND SUCCESS ey 


A DEEP hush pervaded the audience. The peo- | 
ple were spellbound. Even Pep, standing against ha 
side wall, felt a thrill pass through him. So 

| tural and fitting had been the climax of the pic- 
re that its effect was apparent in a general rus- a 
ing—a deep breath that swayed the onlookers. a 
‘The wrecker turned and his lips again moved 
as if to form for a signal whistle. Shrilly the 
wavered about the scene. — Et 
‘A talking -picture!”” Pep heard someone  —>- 


i Ae s great! ” echoed another voice. le 





ing down the beach. Its young master held a 
coil of rope in his hand. He seemed swayed by 
flicting emotions. Then he appeared to ar- 
e at z a conclusion. j 







_ He secured one end of the rope LAs 
ae the animal and made signs. The _ 





x ss dog li lifted hie ona A A joyous, 
bark rang out. It was real—like the « a 
the whistle. 


- fied way. 

; The dog disappeared. Then a ins oh : 
showed far out at sea and there sounded out th 

i distant echo of the foghorn of 2 a steamer. At Ww 


he 


oy 


_ than one among them habe bis lost binnsels an 
almost fancied he: was ene on | that fone 


by the faithful dog to. the siperaled. ships 
safety line was sent ashore. Passengers and cre 
were all saved and among them a beautiful ; ac 
girl. Bae 
The last winnie showed a Nore. ee i 
- grounds of the home of the father of the 
girl. She was ee a bogie in a vernal sig 














* Must be one of those new speaking pictures.” 
y Oh, we must get all the folks to come to this. . >. ie 
ghtful show!” iN: 
Pep’s heart beat pr oudie as the audience filed ie 
ut and he overheard this encouraging praise. ee 
e could hardly contain himself. Then he no- ng 
ed Ben Jolly beckoning to him and he glided 
er to the piano. Jolly’s face was one broad fi 
lighted smile. | . a 
_“ How was it, Pep?” he inquired. re 
No, what was it!” corrected Pep in a fluster, ba 


ned seated—and he guessed something. 
‘Him? ” he est: 


“Did you Henne HA you notice 
Pep, excitedly. 
“Why, of course,’ ’ replied Frowle 
understand it at first, but 1 know it must be some 
professional imitator.” | | 
SESS TE was Mr. Vincent. He ‘wore a. false 
beard.” | ey 
Vou don't say so!” cried Bean | 
“Yes, and he was the cornetist outside too,’ 
Pep went on. 
Ad a piece of Mr. Jolly’s wore T anes | 
* Of course,” replied Pep. ‘“ When he got tha 
message this afternoon Mr. Vincent was probab 
at the hotel. Then he arranged to surprise us 
“It’s more than a surprise—it’s given tor 
and novelty to the whole entertainment.” 
The routine of set duties prevented the be 
from prolonging the conversation. Jolly h 
begun the intermission overture and the sea 
were filling up fast. A good many had remain 
from the first audience. It took little circulat ng 
among the benches for ‘Pep to learn that “A 
Wrecker’s Romance,” with its. realistic ie 
tation, was Pact | for this. Mee ats 









VD SUCCESS ep ea 



















rival playhouse. Home- -going eee fron. ee 
beach made a stop. mid 
“Nearly fifty people turned away,” reported 
a andy, as Pep slipped out to have a word with 
\him. 

“There must have been over eight hundred 9937, 
_ admissions,” figured Pep. | gee 
if id One thousand, one hundred and fifty exact «0g 
y,” reported Randy. 

« Why, say,” cried Pep, * ‘at that rate we're 
oing to be rich!” ; 

“Hey, young fellow,” hailed a man appearing 
at this moment—“I suppose there’s a free list 
for friends?” | abe 
“TJ should say so,” responded Pep, recognizing  __ 


, ae 
he workman at the National he had gotten so 
chummy with. “Step right in, although I'm ee 
fraid I can’t offer you a seat.” : aa 





“Crowded as that; eh?” spoke the man. 
“ That’ s fine.” 3 
“How is it at the National?” asked Pep. 
Do they keep busy?” vt 
a es seat taken, but then you on they’ 
es sayy? proca 








ay curious ee the proce dings af stag 

Carrington and his friends oa tai 
“T should say they did! They ad to as 

boards for seats and several of them iain in two 


y 


some private boxes?” 
 Dhey did, for a fact. They were no use and 


chairs about, but he got in there waa some chuth | 
First thing we knew one of them shifted his posi - 
tion, and the three of them went fiat the et 


* Well, I ieee ‘ spoke Jolly, 2 an ee k 
“as he came to the front of the eps 
Vincent. 
























the lights been left on and the ticket office 
n many of them no doubt would have entered 
‘playhouse. | 


Randy, hugging his tin cash box under his arm 
‘ ith ‘great complacency. “It couldn’t have been 
@ “ guess we've hit it this time,’ pronounced 
Pep, proudly. hari 
“That isn’t always so hard to do at the start,” 
a1 dvised Hal Vincent. “It’s keeping it up that 
‘counts, You want to advertise now—new stunts, 
‘novelties, attractions.” | 
: teens! ” cried Pep. ‘‘ Can the best of 
| 1em beat those cornet solos? Novelties! Why, 
ose talking pictures will be the hit of the town.” 
-~ “Vou are a famous friend, Mr. Vincent,” 
ke Frank, warmly. | 
“And ought to be a famous man,” supple- 


cial ‘programme, Durham.” 
i got ‘through with my city lawsuit just in 


were hey te peeer about the Rencle Ay : 


“Enough is as good as a Hee} laughed : 


nted Jolly, loyally. ‘“ He’s worth gaan ona 


” explained Vincent. “ ‘Made quite a good 
tlement, too. First pata I did was to release, 








4 ‘Then give your orden) ple 
Seaside Park forthwith, Mr. Vincent,” ”* direct 
Frank, spontaneously. “ I’ll risk saying that 
can pay you what is fair for a month’s steac 
run at least.’’ | 


ba! hs 
‘, 


the line ; don’t oF Pep?” ss Reais the a 


-on the shoulder. 3 SENN 
“Oh!” cried Randy, “ we're sai _ 
kinds of fame and fortune at Seaside Park.” 
“ By—the—wild—sea—waaa-ves!”” added 
versatile Vincent, throwing his” dn 

















CHAPTER XVII 
BOASTFUL PETER 


“ SomeEsopy at the door, Pep.” 

© All right, I'll attend to them.” 

_ Jolly was rearranging the chairs after sweep- i: 
ing out the playhouse and Pep was dusting, 
when there came a summons at the front fen: 
‘It was a smart tapping and Pep wondered whon 9 
t could be. He released one door to confronts, 2 7a 
an, impressive-looking individual, with a light oe 
‘ane in his hand and a facé that somehow made 

ep ae of a stranded actor. 


_Impor- — 





2 oo a This way,” directed Pep, and he ie 
d the ileod to the nee room at the ‘rear. 





eed 


Pca te pi 


Vindent into’ Frank's: ear “the 
eyes on the newcomer. Hey 
“Ah, Mr. Durham—forgotten me, vee iene : 
pose?” airily intimated the visitor, as he entere } 
the room. aR Ma 
“Not at ail,” replied Rone wide a pclae 
smile, as he arose from the desk at which he 
was seated. i 
Jolly had got hold of a very < Meueae me des 
in his trading. It had been set in a convenien 
corner of the room and constituted the ‘ ‘office 
of the Wonderland. Seca 
It was the ubiquitous Booth whee Fra 
greeted. He knew the man at a glance and 
did Vincent. The latter viewed the new arri 
suspiciously and with a none too cordial bow 
There was something that appealed to Frank | 
the visionary old fellow, RONEN en and he treat d 
him courteously. ren 


A demeanor, Mr. Booth drew out. a r 
Be aai book with’ several bank notes - | 




















g aid Peistiened his teat Bad eyeglasses, Peet 
“T have some very pretentious business offer- = 
gs for you, Mr. Durham,” he volunteered. 
However, before we proceed any farther, there 
a matter of unfinished business—a_ trivial 
bligation. Let me see?’ and he flipped over 
3 several leaves of the memorandum book. “ Ah, 
_yes, this is it: ‘Acceptance, one hundred and 
fifty. No, that is not it. “Note at bank ’—wrong’ 
again. Here we have it: ‘I. O. U,, one dollar.’ 
I had forgotten the amount,’ and he handed 
Frank a bill for that amount. 

“Many thanks, Mr. Durham. Adversitg is ia 
he common lot, and such cheerful assistance as a 
that which you accorded me at New York City — 
s of the kind that keeps the human heart warm 
V ith those who. honorably expect to pay their 
debts. Now then, sir, to the SM dea business 
mission which brought me here.” 

“a Vincent looked darkly suspicious, Frank mildly 































“T am very glad to hear that” 
heartily. 

“Beyond my Lypectrone i may say,” de 
clared the enterprising advance agent. “Yo 
are open’ for curtain’ feattires; Sint | a eae 
“Of the right kind, most certainly,” assente 
Frank. He er 

“High class with me, sir, always,” declare 
Booth. “I have one contract of quite som 
magnitude. It is a continuous one, with a fe 
ture that will enhance your business material 
Perhaps I had better show you. How is tha 
aire 

The advance agent presented a card. Uae 
a photograph had been pasted and under this ¥ wa 
the reading: Nae 

“Who am I? Meet me ae ve erga 

“Why,” smiled Frank in some mystificatiot 
“this is a picture of the back of a man’s head? 

“Exactly so—that’s just it!” nodded Boo 
animatedly. ‘In me you see the inventor 
that most original idea. I wish you to have t at 
made into a slide. You throw the picture 
the screen during the intermissions. A bla 
card i is S given to sie oe with the mae 


spoke Fra : 


93. 


















=: rds are éollected, To those who guess cor- 
rectly a one-pound box of finest chocolates is 
elivered next day. These confections, done up 
in handsome boxes, you pile up in your front 
windows with a neat placard explaining the 
scheme. A custom drawer; eh, Mr. Durham?” 

_ “Why, I must say it is quite a novel and in- 

- genious plan,” admitted Frank. © 

“Got to have some attraction like that to in- 
terest new business, sir,’ declared Booth. “I 

have presented the plan to you first, because you 

ood my friend in time of need and because J 

am informed that you operate the leading play- 
thouse here at Seaside Park.” | 

_ “Are you authorized to make a deal on that 
business, Booth?” inquired Vincent, in a blunt, 
matter-of-fact way. 

og “T am,” replied the advance agent with em-— : 
_ phasis. “My client will sign a contract. He is Wee 
c one of the most reliable business men in the com- ae 
~ munity. In later curtain features, first the rear Aes 
e view and then the front view and advertisement — is 
of my client’s business will be delineated on the 
screen. I have several other features to follow 
his one. I can make it worth your while to 
nter into a contract.” 























: T ye, 






_ the entertainments. i 
“I declare, that is the first coherent scheme. 
ever knew Booth to put through,” asserted Vin- 
cent, as the advance agent took his departure. 
“Tf he sticks at this in a business- like way it 
- looks as if he would make some real money. as : 


ham. You needn’t be surprised if he drops in 
some day with one of his wild Scan like 


snail change on hand,” ade ae Jolly. ; 
| org what about the cay shows?” 


ihe day,”’ replied Prank, 
: ta ey, day after to 





fe eat a Rate ai 
t Nase The 


oy aed 
ha 
siete 















147, 





poles at the allusion. As they passed 4 
1 the steps of the bank they came face to — Nee 
ace with two of their business rivals. They 
Peter Carrington and Greg Grayson. Pep 





be boys and were Sie ut to pass on their 
‘old on, ” sang out Beet in his usual abrupt 
“Had pate a house last ent, didn’t 






















. 148 PICTURE _cHums 





at: matter Dae your private De ‘ 
3 Oh, accidents will Lapel returned Re 
“Say, look out for a big hit, though, in a 
ot two.” | 
Sst hae eon. said Pep. 
“You bet! Isn’t that so, Greg?” . ae 
Greg Grayson assented with a nod. He looke d 
mean and probably felt the same way. He had 
sense enough to reais that his past record we 





showed him up in a poor light. A 
“Yes, sir,” vaunted Peter, swelling as ifs § : 
big idea had sprouted in that dull brain of 
“we're going to spring a motion picture se 


Pe 2 


tion on Saas: Park that will about make a 






serve it if you faa the ape thing.” 
“Well, we just have,’ boasted. Peter. } 
$0 Bo0d that I shouldn’ « wonder if it he 








better poly out of ‘the way,” ate 
“The National sion come > to stay, Tca 
ek 2 4 be ty 








CHAPTER XVIII 









THE GREAT FILM en Sas 


“was unusually excited. OS, 
im “Yes,” nodded Hal Vincent, “this is one of eS 


ae as much as oahey do now; but you take 
oyal coronation, or a national auto race, or an — wat Be 
: hquake, or liner lost at sea, and thats the aio 
PIE feature that ie public run after for about a 
r onth. es : 

| “Vou ve _ got. to get in at them at the start,. 

hough,” “suggested Jolly. ae: 
Always. The event advertises itself and the 

men give it a new start. Why, to open up 
oe shows, this flood film would be an ain sik 





















ra 





9? 


in the “movies” line, THe ioweven eae 
enough aan the business to realize that t 


oN The letter they had eae advieed, hen 
that within two days the “ Great Flood Serie \ 
of films would be offered for lease. The supply ? 

was limited and on this account one film h 1 
been sere tens to certain tenia ~The x ig 


ie est bidder in each distticd ° an 
a he flood film covered a national disaster 


“Public charity had ae appealed to pi 
were relief funds all over the aha a 


Be ioe is to oe ity) : 

Na An cen at quick,” added Vincen 
attractions are grabbed. fora 
But the: caste” suggested ‘ra: 
ee “Oh, it is never ;, 








here, ay can ienate me Gee out of your 
pe € staff. T'll go to ite city and pur 














i Oh, they a One ie a night or so,’ brated 
cent. “ Another thing, I ordered my outfit, 
ich was levied on at the stand down country 
e my last venture showed, sent to New York 
y before I knew I was coming down here. 
lere’s some new wardrobe properties I want, 
so I can do double duty while I am in the 


y oud stand as a maximum figure, but con- 
rable discretion was left to their representa- 

Randy and Pep Br oued down to the depot 
7 Vincent. | Sonia 
See who’s here,” saddeaty observed Randy. © | 
Peter shee ma loud’. checked’ suit, 9 


























drew away from the ee Vee centered th 
chair car when the train alps: in ares 

“Hello, going your way,” observed Randy. 

fed ‘Say, suppose he’s after that new featu 
a film?” inquired Pep, excitedly. ‘i aM 
ae “ Might be,” observed Vincent, carelessly. “ 3 
that’s the big card they were bragging abou a 
they haven’t landed it yet. Glad you mention } 
i that point, Pep. I'll get busy.” COE 
a te) - There was a great deal to attend to that Fi y. 
va The season had commenced with the finest of 
weather and it bade fair to continue indefinitely x 











ek “Tell you what, fellows ie ond): to oe ‘ 
ey and Pep, “Mr. Jolly thinks he had oe ht 














ne cost. I hardly think we ey Rue any 
he Ne until next week, unless our compe : 
d Then of course we will have to show 0 
ae : | ry 
“Well, I can tell you that they 
asleep,” declared Peps: es 
~“ Wow is that? ’” Ont Jolly. | 


‘ T saw my friend who works bite 
















‘be is se ae a 
sire nat a 


. Ske Aa 
t of the National. He don’t know exactly 


‘Well know to-night,” said Frank. ‘Mr. 


The boys were brisk and ready for the even- 
ing’s entertainment when the hour arrived. 
here was every indication of a big attendance. 
What pleased Frank most was to notice that 
those who were waiting for the doors to open 
; were mostly family people—children and resi- 
ents. This spoke well for the reputation the 
onderland had already gained. 


The first house was only fair. There was, 









ee 1”? 


. d erie young man! 





said the Wie ig as 








ie Carrington, Bue he was s forced ab 
the on-pressing crowd. 












enka seats. among the few left. | 
Pep felt that he was on ead behavior. 
the eyes of their lady patronesses upon th 
When they arose to leave at the end of the h 

he slipped over to the operator’s booth and 
ER vised Frank of the presence of their dis 
RG guished company. The aie ae drew a 





ae well ordered place, Mr. Durham,” said Mrs. #8 
" rington. Se | Roa 

“ And your iastenal isclea of ¢ films,” np: 
Miss Porter, brightly. “As to your pianist, 
is an expert, and your usher oo pert 











i GREAT FILM 


declared Prank eT can assure you of 


es I am sure it will. I told you so, Mrs. Car- ae 
‘rington,” spoke Miss Porter. “Peter talks as 
it ough you were sanguinary enemies, but I knew ! 
i was nonsense as far as you are concerned. J ine 
don’t like the man he has taken in with him,a es 
Mr. Beavers, however. I told him so yesterday, fee 
met with a rebuff for ay interest I eas Me 
n Peter’ s welfare.” 4 : 
pag That little lady is our champion, all right) sere 
teclared Pep, returning from escorting the ladies "e 
> their automobile. : Qs 
When the boys came to reckon up the proceeds 
the evening they found them to be several = 
aiiars over what they had taken in the first 
ght. They were congratulating themselves on 
ir continued good fortune when Hal Vincent 

in an appearance. He had a great paper roll 

wu der his arm and looked brisk and contented. 

; ‘Well, Hal? " ola Jolly, in a cheery, ex- 






























oT want to show you something,” was the 
: triloquist's reply as he Bene the roll upon 






156 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


tractive. They depicted striking and thrilling 
events of “ The Great Flood.” :. 
“Twenty-five sets go with the films,” he ont 
plained. a 
“And you've got the films?” said Jolly. 
“T couldn’t bear to leave them behind,” : 
plied Vincent, with a smile. “I’ve got mea and 
the price won’t break ae 3 it’s at the cost ot 
making a deadly enemy.” 4 












CHAPTER XIX 


_ GETTING ALONG : 
: “Wao S the enemy, Mr. Vincent? ” inquired . 





“That doesn’t sound so dangerous,” declared — | 
fa lightly. 
Tell us about it, Hal,” urged Jolly. 5 


There, ist toa. lot to tell,”’ ae NeMeRG 












on of the season, so I hot- footed a 
from the ‘train. ~ Phere you are, sir,’ 








Mr. Carrington,’ said the Caetion polly Tt 
firmly. ae xn 
“Td like to know ehy you can eye Here 1 
Peter. ‘That check is good as gold, and 
_ aunt has a little fortune in that same bank,’ 
“* All right, get someone in New. York | to 
dorse it and you can have the goods,’ advised 
cashier. ‘It's no discrimination, Mr. Carring- 
ton. We make this a stringent rule with a al 
out-of- ‘town customers.’ ) 
















eT ently. 
ni Bete 














) oe sist there. Pics nearly tad | 5 i a 
it. uae he dived for the door. I found out aE 


ne Timi when Peter rushed upon the scene once 
re,” narrated Vincent. “| He as a big wad | 
bank notes out of his pocket. ‘Pack up that = 
f,? "he ordered sourly, ‘ and cancel all our other j 
| Tm going to a new place where they 
: "t question my Bot on a aap sumi like 


‘ ‘Hold on,’ I put in, ‘I don’t want to take eh 
ntage peta competitor. Fair. and’ :square,) 74,99 
agton. hee want the film, bid for it? 

: boasted Peter. a, 





ore Peter, unas over the bills in 
I haven't much more Te, cash here 


















Digs ee PICTURE cHums AT SI 


the bluff took. I ed ohne the handeed ane f 
you gave me, but I was nervy, and it beat Pete 
I fancy Jack Beavers had set a limit, or the real 
money wasn't flush at the National an : 


were so interested in the new film that they h 
to give it a trial run. It was all the lurid adv 
tising claimed for it from start to finish, and 
an took thirty-five minutes to run it—the scenes | 
__ picted held the interest. 
_ > “Ts well worth the’ money,? cae 
Jolly enthusiastically. “ Now then, to oar 
to the limit.” : | + 
The transparency frame built for ne Nati 
remained in place, but its muslin covering did 
contain the announcement expected by Pet “ 
his satellites. Even Hal Vincent, well as 
knew Jack Beavers, was greatly ae 








“It’s pretty bad taste,” he criticised. ; 
take with a certain: element, but. it won't 





on that Thursday iene he! posters | 
Morea in the various mepees ws: 











161 



























GETTING ALONG 


ing entertainment. A ladies’ charitable associa- 
tion, active in raising a fund for the flood suf- 
ers, was a Ong the audience Friday night. 

_ “It’s a go,” voted Ben Jolly, as Randy reported 
4 over. a hundred ‘people turned away from the 
doors. “If I were you, Durham, I would wire 
the Exchange for a Ca days’ contract on that 
film.” 

_ This was done. A big house was expected for 
Saturday night and it had been decided to run 
two matinees from three to five beginning Mon- 
day. This crowded a little but not to any notice- 
able discomfort.. | 

Pep, always on the scent for information re~ 
rding their competitors, came in with a new 
ulletin at supper time. _ 

vA Things are getting sort _ eed down at 
e National, I hear,” he remarked. i ge 
*‘ How’s that, Pep?” questioned Jolly. 

“ They had a rough crowd among the audience 
t night and there was a fight. Two, women 






abc fellows yesterday afternoon down at the 





pred and several had their pockets picked by | 


, ese Jack Beavers with a ee of hard- 


” said Vincent. v2 That won't pay eae i. 


rounds,’’ said fetes. 
Pep. 


As Everio Wy the motion edn ch m 
and their friends, the throngs that evening be 
all records. Pep forgot to look for suspi ious 
characters or trouble. Everything went smoot | 
up to the last show, when he noticed four | 
gering fellows come in. 


feet and talked loudly. oA few minutes hee : 
like group gained admittance and took 


among the rear rows of seats. ‘There were 


yet 


fy “And rush ea crow wd int e 
























163 


wish ing could as one of the beach police- 
en to show himself,” said Pep. ‘‘ That would 
care them off. Those officers are friendly to us, 
won't make a move until a real row is on.” 

I think I can help out on this proposition,” 
arked Vincent, and Pep noticed that he passed 


nt, behind the main room. 

Vhen the lights came on for a moment be- 
en the first and second film Pep stared in blank 
rise at a figure standing against the side wall. 
as that of a police officer fully uniformed, 
n 1 to the stout club usually carried. He was 


e Pep so apprehensive. 
pes Mr. Vincent, ” guessed Pep— shod fet 


The versatile ventriloquist it was. His exten- 





ough the doorway leading to the living apart- 


ten feet away from the quartette that had 


tht imme Ty ime 


mo eS ce ee ee 


film i is over.’ 
“In what way?” inquired Vincents 
“The two men at the end of the front s 
~ here—Midway crowd—I want eta ‘ 3 
“Want them?” — | fy ae 
“Yes, I am an officer from the city I'l yV 
you my credentials later. The two fellows aj me ‘5 


i ee 


case.’ eo. cee. Se 
“What do you want me to > do?” @ * iosuied \ 
cent. | nt 


ute their eyes light o on me. You gabe th 
fellow. I'll attend to the other an Th 
_the usher out for more police help.” 

“ All right,” assented ignas i « only ¢ 
quietly as you can. te 
reputation of the show by any rough 

“Oh, they’ll wilt when they see 

- nered. Another word Nin | 

PE Vase? eh ae at i | 

“ Help me to do this job Hee ly na 
_ fine reward to divide.” $i) “ 





CHAPTER XX 


A RICH FIND 


» 


\s a oe came on again the man who had 


Soe added ae and Hal | : 
a upon the other man in true off- 
heard what se took for ciee ia 















| whistles fon the Chee Nae ‘on the pa 


TaN Oe 


whom he noticed burrowing their Mies thi ous 






way,” he Ds to the New Yous officer, and 1 
his prisoner into the as | rooms. 


the officers sent for. He advised Renee 
_ Randy that “something was up’ ’ and made Sut 
that the latter got started for He rear "with 


He stood there! on guard uadl be ivo 
men and the officer from the as came ou 






ra. out any row a minting er ie : 


“What have those men. been i 
cent? a anes a as s th 2 















its Desi ined the ventriloquist.“ Tt seems he 
as been on their trail for a week. Located them 
t the Midway and traced them here to-night.” 
“Get your broom, Randy,” ordered Pep, con- 
ng his watch. 

What for?” 

We've got just forty-eight minutes before 
welve oe We want to sweep out We ‘then. 


Besides, it’s a satisfaction to see 





a rou ia aae me, Randy,” said Pep, as his com- 
. into the end of the center aisle 















‘put of the way.” tia ; 
While his cot Fats was gone ae the owen 
question Pep began poking about in the accun 1 
lated heap swept up. He always did this bef 01 
the heap was placed in the rubbish box and 
dumped out of a side bret into a coal 
standing beneath it. 










. “Think saa rll ae ‘and Pep) ?D 
2y, ” he added with animation, 
























A RICH FIND) Pe 16 


had Needed Be the little chamois bag. It 
sparkled and dazzled. _ 

“Gold!” uttered Randy. 

And diamonds!” added Pep with zest. “It’s 
necklace. It’s handsome enough to be real, but 
that can’t be.” 

“Why not?” challenged Randy. 

“Oh, it would be worth a small fortune. 
fho’s going to drop a thing like that i in a ten- 
nt motion picture show?” 

a. Mr. Vincent,” suggested ah 


e ae rooms. 
‘I want to show you something, Mr. Vin- 
£7? 


nt said Pep, approaching the ventriloquist, 
ho with Jolly was dispatching supper at the 


Ww hy,” exclaimed Vincent, as Pep bated 
| him the chamois bag and held up to the light 
the necklace it contained, “ where in the world 
did you get this?” 

“T should say so!” cried Jolly, his « eyes fixed 
n the shimmering article of jewelry. 
ie swept it ap, Nel Pep. 















—a thousand dollars: and nave Been , 

Pep gave utterance to an excited. wh ei 
Randy Tooled bewildered. Frank, busy at hi 
desk going over the contents of the cash : 
arose from his chair and like the others bec: 
an interested member of the group. rey 
“Some lady must have carried it a te 
it dropped from her pocket,” he i 


for ite } i 
“Whoever it belongs 4 to 5 will be ars lo 
_ for it quick enough,” declared Vincent. . 
| “T hope there will be | some kind of | a r 
said Randy. _ SN Cae 


eS 







3%) 


i: eae no we divide, 
you?” lauehed Jolly. «y ‘say, D: 
friend Booth must know of this. i 

-~ whole column in the newspapers. ‘ E> 

: fashionable audience at the Wonderla 























ie for thes actress.” 
: Frank took Ba of the chamois bag and de- 
osited it in the tin cash box. This he locked up 
nd as usual took it into one of the apartments 
here he slept. 
“We shall have to keep special watch over all 
that valuable stuff until the bank ance Monday 
morning, * he explained. | 
y Randy hung around, wrought up with lexi. 
nt over their wonderful find and anxious to | 
k about it. Pep was very tired and went to his 
ot to rest. Frank, Jolly and Vincent sat with 
eir feet on the sill of an open window, enjoying 
e cool breeze from the ocean and indulging in 
sant comments on the first successful week of 
e Wonderland. — ae ay. 
With the flood film fed the ts act of 


Pre felt Oe ee 


he great ae entertainer, ‘Signor Halloway 


Bcd Ben ole Pi ae 
“Guess I'll turn in, too,” remarked ene ie: 
after wandering about the room aimlessly for ot 





oat ae 






“2 PICTURE 












fi the apartment here Pe 
contained two cots. He had started over to 


glanced out. : a 
“Fire!” he He Shonen and rushed « o 
into the room where the others were. Spa. 


holt You Cat see it from the side window. 1 L 00k 
eee 
A glare Sina illuminated the room. | 


. whistle of surprise. Frank ran into his room 7 
yn came out with his cap on. ‘Then there es a 






aoe 


| Harry up! 


A RICH FIND 173 


jumped to his feet and hurried out into the large 
room. 

“It is a fire, sure enough,” he exclaimed, glanc- 
ing from the window. “It’s that big building 
where they rent rooms to transients. The whole 
roof is ablaze and ‘3 

Pep came to a sudden halt. Just stepping over 
the threshold of the doorway at the head of the 
yard steps, he was confronted by two men run- 
ning up them. 

One of them threw out one atid, It landed on 
Pep’s breast, almost pushing him off his footing, 
and was accompanied by the gruff voice: 


{» 


“ Hey, you get back in there! 





CHAPTER "2x1 
THE TIN BOX 


PEP was a quick thinker. He could not tell 
how it was, but the minute his eyes lighted on the 
two strangers he someliow associated them with 
the group from whom he had anticipated trouble 
earlier in the night. In fact he was not sure that 
they were not two members of ihe quartette whé 
had been the object of the visit of the officer from 
the city. 

“What do you want?” Pep instantly chal- 
lenged. 

For answer his assailant leaped torirate and 
made a grab for him. Pep knew that the intru- 
sion of these men could have no good motive. 
He dodged, seized a frying pan from the gas 
stove, and brandished it vigorously. 

*“‘T'll strike!’ he shouted. ‘ Don’t you try to 
hold me!”’ 

“Quiet the young spitfire,” growled the second 
of the men, and although Pep got in one or two 
hard knocks with his impromptu weapon, he was 
finally held tightly by the arms from behind by 

174 












ake Ae man who had first appeared. 
.eep this one quiet, if you have to choke him.” 


there with his knee on his-breast, despite his 
glings. He managed to oot a gag. Then 


sts together in a vise- like. grip. , 
he flare from the fire and the bal moon- 


two ho befor bya the city ices 
5 RS ae ae 


and. ee 
Oba eh?” seen Pep Ss captor, = 
comrade ayaa ann 


at tik 3 ee ea 
“ That settles re ‘aoe i : 
ae two, running down the outside stai 
‘a Pep was dazed fora moment. He 
back half stunned. ‘His head had rec 


















U7 7° 


ot breath. Pep darted down the stairs, his 
s glancing in every direction. The whole top 
the building, three hundred feet away, was 
blazing now. There was a vacant space behind 
t 1e Wonderland, and across this people were run- 
ning i in the direction of the fire. Pep could not 
ake out his friends anywhere about. ‘As his 
ance swept in the opposite direction he saw two 
adowy forms headed on a run for the side 


‘It’s them; I see them!” cried Pep, and he 
rinted ahead, his eyes fixed upon the scurrying 
ures, They disappeared between two build- 
gs. Then they came out | on the street next to 
he boardwalk. © 

" ie plone ae idea had been to get near 


oe eee men! ie have coed us!” 
0 ted Peo, putting for the ee where the rae 














ne oe PICTURE 


sons ahd were hastening i in 

fire. di 
One of eee halted and deed: = Pea 1 

an heed of his announcement, but his 1 fe 


up. S Help! Thieves! Police! 
. The man in the rear seat had laced he 
his side. 










their pursuer. Pep dodged his. Berg De 
aside, but the man got a hold on his 
pulled him clear over into the machin 
“Now go. on,” he! ‘directed bi 
: Pil squelch the young wildcat.” . 
ae You won tt nevis x 
: as was ah brutal ‘sque 
view. from ‘the street an 
. aa 





anc Meccted down : a | winding aa ladies into the 
sountry. | Bie 
t # Ne ow you sit still there aa keep your tongue 


Py 
















“ Why don’t you cea him out?” demanded 
the man acting as chauffeur. “We're past the 
hue and cry now.” ie . 
“Not from a fellow. with his sharp wits,” 

ted the other. ‘‘ He’d find the first Pieshiae 
double-quick. He’s made us.a lot of trouble. a 
ive him a long walk home for his meddling.” 
They were going at such a furious rate Pep 
knew that even if they passed anyone his shout 
ould be incoherent and borne away on the wind. © 
ed rate they were secure from pursuit except — 









an tis way back home as best he dia A 
Spi rate resolve came into Pep’s mind, as glanc- 
Dae He caught the glint of water. At the C 





oF the bridge, his # hand shot ous 520%, the oa | 










‘box in its pillow case covering, . , 
cushion between himself and his eae. i: 


a the calan waters jue Hae TS. ane o 
bridge rail. The man beside Pep uttered a sho | 









a _ bery linine the cee ees eh 
\ Pep did not wait to look back to he thal 
3 sion of the crash. ‘He heard confused. Beat 
a“ som 

ot ove er i 








side te out a fdvnHoneee | The I li 
_ from the doorway of a big barn, 
Ooo) sons, a \inan ‘and’ a boy, vere jus 
| horse from a light wagon. 


















‘ Mister!” ried Ben. re lcclte: running up 
2 the men, “two thieves had wrecked their auto- 
~ mob le right at the bridge. They have stolen a 
focar money and jewelry. They tried to carry 
e away with them.” 

“Run for my gun, Jabez,” ordered le far- 
y ier, roused at the sensational announcement. 
Maybe they’re the fellows who broke in here 
ast week when we were away at a neighbor’s.” 
_ The boy ran to the house. He soon reap- 
ge with a ca double-barreled shotgun 





hes. Gvidenily the amateur cians had — ; 
oo made a turn at the see, me 


182. PICTURE \CHUMS “4AT SRASIOR Arai 


declared Pep. “ Mister, I want you to help me P| 
further and I will pay you for it.” | 3 
“ What doing?’ inquired the man. 


“As I told you, those men had stolen a lot 


of valuables. They were in a little tin box. Just 


as we were passing over the bridge here I'saw my — 


chance to outwit them. I flung the box into the 
river.” 

“What!” exclaimed the farmer. 

“ Sounds like a fairy story,” remarked his son 
skeptically. | 

“You find some more help, so if those fellows 


show themselves we can beat them off or arrest 


them,’’ observed Pep, “and I will prove what I 
have told you and pay you well for your trouble.” 
“Jabez, go and wake up the two hired men,” 
directed his father. | 
“I’m a pretty good swimmer and diver,” said 
Pep, after the boy had gone on his errand. “Is 
the water very deep? ” 

“Six or eight. feet.” 

“Then the rake will help me,” said Pep, pro- 
ceeding to disrobe. He was stripped of his outer 
garments by the time the boy Jabez had returned. 
with two sleepy-looking men. He was in the 
water at once. JT irst he probed with the rake. 
Then he made a close estimate of the spot where 


the box was likely to have landed and took a dive. — 4 















“% 


a cron eats te 
‘ _there | | a oe PeOaeold is 


as you and the een oe “you ‘do it ay 
can charge your own price.” Oe eee es 
“ina fair,” nodded the farmer. fa 
2 got une rig in the barn ee and told ie i 


ey: ie drove, Pep holding the rescued box, the mo : 
i [as “8 ; 







ae 
ing in ies nia, the sight of 
Kept them: from making | any : 


184 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


As they got nearer to the town the glare of the © 
distant fire was noted, and young Jabez whipped 
up the horse and made good time. The building — 
on fire was pretty well consumed, but the fire — 
department had saved adjoining structures. Pep — 
directed Jabez to drive to the Wonderland by the — 
rear route. He noticed that the living rooms 
were lighted up. a 

“Wait here for a minute,” directed Pep to 
those in the wagon, dashing up the steps of. the 
playhouse with his precious box. 





CHAPTER XXIL 


A ae REWARD 


; i , Pe” said ‘Joly 5 ‘Got ee may a 





186. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


his friends were in ignorance of the burglarious ~ 
event of the hour, and his own sensational ex- 


periences. He had just been missed and all hands 
supposed that he was lingering at the scene of the 
fire. 

“Why, the box, of course,’ almost snapped 
Pep. 

“ What box?” questioned Randy. 

Pep gave the wetted pillow case a jerk, freeing 
it of its enclosure, and the little cash box was 
disclosed. | 

“That box, of course,’ he announced. — 
“ What’s the matter with you fellows? I guess 
you've been asleep while people have been steal- 
ing from you!” | 

Frank advanced to the table, curiosity dawning 
in his expression as he recognized the box. 

**T don’t quite understand,” he remarked. 

“ Don’t?’’ resented Pep. ‘‘ Well, you ought 
to. Look at that,’ and he exhibited the bump on 
his head, received when one of the robbers had 
knocked him across the room and against the 
wall. “ And that, too,’ and Pep held up his chin 
so the red marks on his throat showed. ‘ Then, 
too,’ he continued, “half an hour ducking and 
diving in the cold waters of a creek at midnight 
is no grand fun, I can tell you! ”’ 

“Why, it looks as if our Pep has been up to 














aio BIG BWR | i ake 


ee a Holly, coming to the table. 
ve been down in front of the seat of an 
nobile and half choked to death,” replied 
£ ep tartly. “lL say; Frank » It was a good thing 
t rat qT didn’t run off and leave the place unpro- 


vik eh Gintes. 2 il ve 
ae hae rifled the 


















188 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK © 


the cash box and the treasure it contained, so [ 
took out the bills and the necklace. Here they | 
are,” and Frank produced them from an inside 
pocket of his coat. : 
“ Then—then )\ Stanmered Sep taken 
aback. 4 
“Then you are just as much a hero as if you 
had saved a whole bank of money!” cried Frank, 
giving Pep a commending slap on the shoulder. ~ 
“It was a big thing you did, ae declared 
Randy enthusiastically. a 
Ben Jolly and Vincent added more approving 
words, and Pep warmed up to his usual self at id 
praise of his friends. : 
“There’s the fellows outside to settle with,” he 
suggested. i 4 
‘Glad to do it,” said Frank. “ There must be 
at least thirty dollars in the box, so you have 
saved us a'good deal, Pep.” mace? 
“ Didn’t catch a weasel asleep when they came. 
in here!” chuckled Jolly in Hees Gat We You 
taught them something this time.” ‘ 
The farmer was very modest in his charges, 
“Two dollars covered the damages,’ he re- 
marked, “and seeing the fire was worth half of 
that.”’ ' 
It was getting well on to morning by the time 
all hands were settled down. Vincent was the 





2s 


A BIG REWARD 189 








4 ast to go to a He had got a card out of his 
pocket and said he had some business down town. 
_ “Tt’s to send a message to the city officer who 
ook those two prisoners to New York on the last 
train,” he explained to Frank. ‘ Of course there 
is no doubt that the necklace was part of the pro- 
-ceds of the burglary he arrested them for.” 

a *T think you are right,” agreed Frank. 

_ A quiet day in reading and rest did wonders 
in refreshing the tired out motion picture friends 
after a week of unusual activity and excitement. 
All were up bright and early Monday morning. 
 “T tell you, this is genuine office business,” 
Fesid Frank, as he rested at noon from continuous 
labors at his desk. 

- “You take to it like a duck to water,” de- 
-clared Ben Jolly. 

_ “Who wouldn't, with the able corps of assist- 
ants at my command?” challenged Frank. “ Mr. 
Vincent took Mr. Booth off my hands. He 
knows the man much better than I do and, as he 
expresses it, understands how to keep that vision- 
« ary individual in the traces. Pep and Randy 
seem to have just the ability to get our new pro- 
gramme into the very places we want them. Mr. 
Vincent has sifted out the supply men as they 
came along, and those letters you got off for me 
took a big load off my shoulders, Mr. Jolly.” 



















190 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 







“Tt all amounts to having a good machine antl 4 
starting it right,” insisted Jolly. | 3 
The boys felt a trifle anxious as it began to 4 
cloud up about one o'clock. A few drops of rain 7 
fell. It almost broke Pep’s heart, Randy de- q 
clared, to see people begin to scatter along the © 
beach and made their way to shelters, and the 7 
hotels. | 4 
“ T’ll try and stem the tide,” observed Vincent ~ 
smartly, as a bright idea seemed to strike him. © 
He dived into one of the bedrooms and reap- © 
peared in his band costume, cornet in hand. 
“Open the door, Pep,” he directed. “ Never — 
mind routine this time—what we want to do is — 
to get the crowd.” 4 
Vincent posted himself under the shelter of — 
the canopy that ran over the ticket booth. Soon ~ 
his instrument was in action. The delightful 7 
music halted more than one hurrying group. The | 
inviting shelter beyond the open doors attracted © 
attention. The word went down the beach. The 
shower would be over in an hour and here was a — 
fine place to spend the interim. | 
“Twenty minutes to two and the house nearly 
full,’ reported Pep gleefully, to Jolly at the 
piano. 
The shower was over in half an hour, but when ~ 
the first crowd passed out there was another one” 


— 2 


SS ee 


ie ES ne ae ae 
ee ES Oa eg Ee gn ee ee Ie opm oe 


, 191 
to take its place About half the seats — 










an bt during the programme as many more 


me in, pee last matinee could not accommo- 





b] 


3 i explained rigeent. “We didn’t — Hh ay 
| to. tisk having it around here any longer.” atk 
; knew from the\circumstances and yout deni 707m 
up mn that it is oe of the plunder I am after,” ee 

said ie officer. wie! wish you would meet 

I will have the | i 





192 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


“Five hundred dollars. I think it fair to di- 
vide it; don’t you?” 


7a ioe that will be very acceptable to our 


93 


one friends here,” assented Vincent, nodding 
at Pep and Randy. “‘ All the credit for finding 
the necklace is theirs.’ 

Pep and Randy were considerably fluttered. 


They had their heads together animatedly dis- : 


cussing their good fortune as Vincent accom- 
panied his visitor to the door. 


“T say, you lucky young fellows,” hailed the : 
ventriloquist airily, “ what you going to do with — 


all that money?” 

“Oh, Randy and I have settled that,” pro- 
claimed Pep. | | | 
G Plave, er , 

“Yes, sir. That two hundred and fifty dol- 
lars goes into the capital fund of the Wonder- 
land.” 


| 
| 





<_ e oee  aee e e e 5 en 









_ CHAPTER XXIII 


THE BROKEN SIGN 


b 


a Se ” said Hen Jolly. casting a weather 
ene le bee an the living room. 





We can a: that, i. ne Fei As 
k wi have been more than fortunate.” ee, 
ae | ay 80,’ Coe an six sou 





194 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


says they let things go half right, quarrel among | 
themselves, and a few nights ago Peter Carring- q 
ton had a crowd’ of his boy friends in a private 4 
box smoking cigarettes while the films were run- 4 
ning. Peter doesn’t speak to me now when we © 
meet.” ; 

“T thought the building was coming down one © 


time last night,” spoke Jolly. “There was dam- © 


age done somewhere, for I heard a terrific crash aq 
a little after midnight.” | 


“There won’t be many bathers to-day,” said 


Vincent, glancing out at the breakers on the beach. | 

Pep finished his breakfast and went out to the © 
front of the building to take a look at things. © 
Just after he had opened the front doors his voice 
rang excitedly through the playhouse. . 

“ Frank—Randy—all of you. Come here, | 
quick!” Then as his friends trooped forward ' 
obedient to his call he burst out: “It’s a blazing © 
shame!” ‘¢ 

‘What is, Pep?” inquired Frank. 

“Look for yourself.” 

“Oh, say! who did that?” shouted Randy. © 

He and the others stood staring in dismay | 
at the walk, that was littered with glass, and then © 
at the wreck of the electric sign overhead, which | 
had cost them so much money and of which they © 
had been so proud. if 





“THE BROKEN ‘SIGN. at petal 




















all tat was left of it was “ Wook 
J—D” and woeful, indeed, the dilapidated sign 
ooked. Broken bulbs and jagged ends of wires 
trailed over its face. Two bricks lay at the edge 
f the walk and the end of a third protruded from 
he bottom of the sign. 
Randy was nearly crying. Frank looked 
etty serious. Pep’s eyes were flashing, but he 
maintained a grim silence as he went over to 
the. edge of the walk and picked up one of the 
bricks. es 
“That was your ‘ great guns’ you heard last 
night,’ observed Pep looking fighting mad. 
“Those bricks were thrown purposely to smash 
our sign. Why—and who by?” 
_ There was not one in the group who could 
t yt have voiced a justifiable suspicion, yet all 
were silent. 
“T think I know where that brick came from,” 
oceeded Pep, trying to keep calm, but really 
) Pe over with wrath. “Tm going to find 
Pep: Aathied not to discuss or explain. The 
‘S stared after him as he marched down the 
tdwalk in his headstrong way. Pep had in 
ind : a little heap of bricks he had seen two days 
fore. They were made of terra cotta, red in 
olor and one ‘side glazed, 



















196 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 
a 

It was at the National that Pep came to a hal i , 
Between the entrance and exit some attempt at 
ornamenting the old building had been made. 
There were two cement pillars and the space 
between them had been tiled. At one side was < 
plaster board and a few of the bricks that had 
not been used. The workman on the job had n 
yet tuckpointed the space he had covered, and had 
left behind some of his material, a trowel and 
other utilities. 
Pep went over to the heap. He selected one 
of the bricks and matched it to the one he carried 
in his hand. He was standing thus when 
door of the National opened and three persons 7 | 
came out. They were Peter Carrington, Greg rs 
Grayson and Jack Beavers. \ 4 
“Hello!” flared up Peter, as he caught sight 
of Pep, “what are you snooping around here | 
for?” : 
“T’m running down the persons who smashed 
our electric sign last night, and I’m fast getting © 
to them,’ replied Pep. “Carrington, you’ Tey ie 
pretty bad crowd, all of you, and I’m going to 
make you some trouble.” | 
“What for? What about?” blustered Pete 
and then he flushed up as Pep waved the brick e 
before him. | 
“That brick and two others like it smashe dj 


, 2a 
me 
wy ls 
ay 
‘.2 















ss THE BROKEN SIGN 197 


our sign,” he declared. ‘There probably isn’t 
another lot of them in town except here.” 
“Well, what of it?” demanded Greg Gray- 
son, sourly. | | 
“Tm not talking to you,” retorted Pep. . “ We 
lid enough of that after your mean tricks at 
Fairlands. Whoever smashed our sign did it 
with some of your bricks. You needn’t tell me 
hey didn’t start out with them from here.- There’s 
plenty of stones along the beach for the casual 
nischief maker. You're trying to break up our 
show. Soon as I get the proofs, I’m after, I’ll 
close yours and show you up to the public for 
| ‘the measly crowd you are.” 
© “Say,” flared up Peter, “ nis is our eee 
and you get off of it, or 
“Or you'll what?” eed Pep, throwing down 
ithe bricks and advancing coaenetly. 
_ “Easy, Carrington, easy,” broke in Jack Beav- 
‘ers and he stepped between the belligerents, 
“Don’t raise a row,” he pleaded with Pep. 
“ “ There’s enough going on that’s disagreeable 
without | any more added.” Then he followed 
Pep as the latter went back to the street. “ See 
1ere, ‘I don’t want any trouble with you people,” 
e went on in an anxious way. “So far as I’m 
neerned, I give you my word of honor I don’t 
ow. the first thing about this sign business.” 














198 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 



















Pep looked at the speaker’s face and was al 
most tempted to believe him. 3 
“You needn’t tell me!” he declared. “ Those! i 
fellows are a mean lot and they ought to be pa 4 
ished,”’ x 
Pep returned to the Wonderland with his tale! 
Frank tried to quiet him, but Pep’s nie 
had got the better of him. , 
“Tf you can make certain that the National — 
crowd did this damage, we can make them pay a 
for it,’ said Frank, “but I don’t want to pro- . 
ceed on guesswork.” — a 
“Oh, you know as well as I do that they di 
it, Frank Durham!” sORnie Pep. 
“T think they did, yes,’ ’ acknowledged an 
“but if we go to making any charges we can- 
not prove Mrs. Carrington will hear of it, and 
don’t care to offend her. Drop it, Pep. Wel 
have to take our medicine this time. If it gets 
too flagrant, then we will go to the authorities 
with it.” P 
Pep was not fully satisfied, however. He man- 
aged to see his friend who worked for the Na 
tional a little later, and tried to enlist his coopera 
tion in ferreting out the vandals who had dam 
aged the electric sign. 
The latter could not be replaced entire withou 
sending to the city for some of the missing let 


THE BROKEN SIGN 199 


ters. This, however, led to one beneficial result. 
When the duplicate letters arrived some colored 
bulbs accompanied them, a suggestion of Jolly. 
‘Two nights later the brilliant sign invited and at- 
tracted attention in its new vari-colored dress, 
showing up as the most conspicuous illumination 
on the boardwalk. 
The gusty, showery feather got down to a 
chill unpleasant spell finally. On Thursday night 
the Wonderland was running, but to rather slim 


audiences. There were few venturesome visitors | 


to the beach in the daytime and the matinee en- 
- tertainments were curtailed. 
That night, however, the Wonderland had 
_ never had a more enthusiastic audience. It was 
comprised of an entirely new crowd—people 
_ themselves in the entertainment business and gen- 
eral trade lines, who could pick only a slack 
_ business period to seek enjoyment. They knew 
_ what a good thing was when they saw it and their 
_ generous: approbation of the flood film and of 
Hal Vincent’s ventriloquial acts with his dum- 
mies made up for the lack of numbers. 
_ “Fine thing!” said more than one. 
| ~ When the second. show began a good many 
kako had gone out came back again. A pelting 
gain had set in, accompanied by a tearing wind. 
i Randy had to keep the window of the ticket 





200 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


office closed as well as he could, and Pep shut } 


the roof ventilators. 


It was in the middle of the last film that a great 
gust of wind shook the building. In the midst © 


of it the echo of the service bell of the life sav- 


ing station down the beach reached the ears of — 


the audience. Many began to get nervous. Just 


as the film closed there was a clatter and crash 
and pieces of the broken skylight in the roof of — 


the playhouse clattered down. 
There were cries and a general commotion. 


Many arose to their feet. The rain began to 


pour in from overhead. 
At that critical moment Frank closed the pro- 
jector and shot on the lights. 





CHAPTER XXIV 
THE GREAT STORM 


“ Wer’RE going to have a night of it.” 

Ben Jolly spoke the words with a grim eonvic- 
tion that had its effect upon his friends, Each 
could realize for himself that they were face to 


face with an emergency. 


When the skylight was partly shattered by a 
_ loose board blown across the surface of the roof, 
and the pieces of shattered glass and rain came 
beating down, the flood of illumination quieted 
what might have been a panic. Jolly had satay 
to the piano stool. 

“There is no danger,’ he shouted—‘“ rae a 
broken pane of glass of two.” 

Then he had resumed his seat and dashed off 
és Ms a lively tune. People could see now that 
they were in no immediate peril and could easily 

get out. The dripping rain, however, dampered_ 
| their amusement ardor. There was a move- 
ment for the exit and the last film was left un- 


"finished. 


Wier as 201 








202 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK | 





Frank had got to Randy as soon as he could, 
He did not wish the report to get out that the : 
Wonderland was in any way unsafe, or have any 
one leave the Bee feeling that he had not got 
his full money’s worth. He summoned Pep to 
his assistance after giving Randy a quick direc- | é 
tion. The latter immediately proceeded to tan : 
the date and the seal of the Wonderland across — 
some blank cards. Then he came out into the 
entrance archway with the others. | 

“Here you are!” shouted the lively Peps 
“Everybody entitled to a free ticket. Good any 
night this week on account of to-might’s storm. 
Let no guilty man escape! ” 

“ Ha! ha! very good.” 

** This is liberal.”’ 
The crowd was put in rare good humor byl 
Frank’s happy thought. The doors were left 
open and those who did not wish to go out into” 
the pelting storm, were told they were welcome 
to linger in the entrance and among the rear 
seats until the rain let up. Meantime, however, 
Jolly and Vincent were not idle. While their 
young friends were coaxing the audience into’ 
good humor, the former had found a ladder, of 
which there were several about the place. Vin- 
cent mounted it and got at the skylight. | 

It was pretty well broken and the wind threat- 


’ 


4 
7 
‘ 


oo) oman 
ITE AT eg 
. a 


on | THE GREAT STORM 203 


ened still further damage. Jolly remembered a 
large canvas tarpaulin in the celler that had been 
used by the painters. By the time the front of 
q the place was cleared of the people he and Vin- 
cent had the skylight well battened down and 


_ protected. 


“We're going to have a bad night,” he re- 
ported as he came down the ladder dripping. “A 


view of the beach from that roof to-night would 


make a great moving picture.” 
““I hope the storm won’t move us, Mr. Jolly,” 


3 said Frank a trifle uneasily, as a fierce blast shook — 


the building. Bie 
There was nothing to do but to doubly secure 


all the doors and windows. The roof of the liv- 


ing room proved to be leaky, but the use of pans 


| and kettles to catch the water provided against 


any real discomfort. 
“T think we had all better stay up,” suggested 


Jolly. “I was in one of these big coast storms 


a few years ago and before the night was thronge 


we had some work on hand, let me tell you.’ 


The speaker proceeded to light the gas stove, 


put on some coffee to boil and then announced 
that he was going to make some sandwiches. 
This suited all hands. It seemed sort of cheery 
to nest down in comfort and safety while the big 
storm was blowing outside. Pep and Randy — 





204. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


began a game of checkers. Vincent was mend- 
ing one of his speaking dolls. Frank was busy 
at his desk. They made quite a happy family 
party, when all chorused the word: 

* Helloh’ 

“Lights out,” observed Jolly, himself the cen- 
ter of the only illumination in the room, proceed- 
ing from the gas stove. 

‘The electric current has gone off, that’s sure,” 
remarked Vincent. ‘‘ That means trouble some- 
where.” 

They waited a few minutes, but the electric 
lights did not come on. 

“Light the gas, Randy suggested Frank. “TI 
think we had better light one or two jets in the 
playhouse, too, so we can see our way if any 
trouble comes along.” 

The playhouse was wired for electric lights, 
but had a gas connection as well. The jet in the 
living room was lighted. 

Pep went out and set two jets going in the play- 
house. They heard him utter a cry of dismay. , 
Then he hailed briskly: | 

“Come out here. Something’s happened. - 

They all rushed in from the living room. 
Something had, indeed, happened. Pep stood in 
half an inch of water, which was flowing 1 in under 
the front doors. 





THE GREAT STORM 205 


“Why this rain must be a regular deluge!” 
cried Randy. 

““Tt’s not rain,” sharply contradicted Pep. 

*« What is it, then? ” 

“Salt water. Hear that—see that!” 

During a momentary hush they could hear a 
long boom as if a giant wave was pounding the 
beach. Then a great lot of water sluiced in 
under the doors. 

“Open up, Pep,” directed Frank, “we must 
see to this right away.” 

The moment the doors were opened a lot of 
water flowed in. But for the incline it would 
have swept clear over the floor of the playhouse. 
Meeting the rise in the seats, however, it flowed 
in about fifteen feet, soaking the matting and 
coming nearly to the boys’ shoe tops. Then it 
receded and dripped away over the platform out- 
side. 

All along the beach the electric lights were out, 
but the incessant flashes of lightning lit the scene 
bright as day. Here and there among the stores 
lanterns were in use, even candles, and where 
they had gas it was in full play. 

The beach clear up to the boardwalk was a 
seething pools now. Whenever a big swell came 
in it dashed over the walk and beat against the 
building lining it. 


99 


206 PICTURE CHUMS AT. SEASIDE PARK 


““See here,” cried Randy in a great state of 
perturbation, “there isn’t ony ees of the 
boardwalk going; is there? ” 

“Part of it is gone already down near the 
slump,” declared Frank. ‘“ Look, you can see 
the beach from here. I hope the waves won't 
upset any of the buildings.” 

“They can’t, right here, Durham,” declared 
Jolly promptly. ‘ You see, there’s a drop from 
us inland. ‘The water will drain off, if it doesn’t 
come in too heavy.” | 

“Tl bet there’s trouble over on the flats,” sug- 
gested Randy. ‘ See the lights moving around.” 

“Lock the doors, Pep,” spoke Jolly. ‘“ We'll 
take a look around and see just how bad things 
are)! 

‘It was no easy task maintaining their footing 
on the boardwalk, for it was slippery and at 
places gave where it had been undermined. Once 
a big wave swept over the exploring party and 
threw them in a heap against a building. People 
came running past them from the lower level of 
the Midway. 

They could héar the life saving corps yelling 
orders and the storm bell sounding out constantly 
in the distance. It was as they came to the street 


that cut down past the National, that Frank and 
















Bees as ee ee ee noted, ieee 
ray aaa the boardwalk to a depression fully 


17-27 


: ‘Here the saris water had Cae mia 
ae The street — 
5 impassable, aed running two: wave 4% 


. river, ae, cut ae, the National as pas 


A #4 







one is in it” tae Frank, ay 
is yt cried Randy. | st Look, Bese 


a id 


at the side. ‘Some one j is Ae y 








208 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


The flashes of lightning, indeed showed a for’ 
lorn figure at the spot Randy indicated. And 
then Vincent, after staring hard, cut in with the 
sharp announcement: 

- “Tt’s certainly Jack Beavers!” 

*‘ Hey, you!” yelled Pep, making a speakintal 
trumpét of his hands and signalling Peter Car- 
rington’s partner. “Help me fellows,” and Pep 
sprang upon a platform that had drifted away 
from its original place in front of some store. 

Frank was beside him in a moment. Randy 
had got Jolly to help him tear loose a scantling 
from a step protection. He joined the others, 
using the board to push their unstable float along. 

The water was over six feet deep and the 
scantling was not much help. A great gust of 
wind whirled them ten feet nearer to the play- 
house building. At the same time it blew over 
the chimney on its top. 

The boys saw the loosened bricks shower down 
past the clinging form in the window. } 

“He’s hit!” shouted Pep. “He’s gone 
down!” 

» Jack Beavers fell forward like a clod and dis- 
appeared under the swirling flood. In an instant 
the motion picture chums acted on a common 
impulse and leaped into the water after him. 






CHAPTER XXV 


CONCLUSION 










m te frail raft. 
sya strewn with Pieces of novus wreckage— 





The surface of the flood. 


a, This nee paced all o 
| oe to ee, oD the ie and sod- 


210 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


out of the water. Pep swam after the floating 
platform they had used a a raft. Jack Beavers, 
apparently more dead than alive, was placed upon 
it. His rescuers pushed this over to where the | 
water was shallow and then carried the man into | 


a drug store fronting the boardwalk. 


‘““I suppose I had better stay with him,” ob- ” 
served Vincent, as Beavers, after some attention. 
from a physician who happened to be in the drug © 
store, showed signs of recovery. “I know him — 
the best, although I can’t say truthfully that I 


_ like him the best.” 


“ Yes, he’s. struck hard lines, and it’s a sort of — 


duty to look after him,” said Ben Jolly. 
He and the boys put in nearly two hours help- 






ing this and that group in’ distress among the — 
storekeepers of the slump. They got back to — 
the Wonderland to find that its superior loca- . 
tion had saved it from damage of any conse- q 


quence. 


A wild morning was ushered in with a chill : 


northeaster. Daylight showed the beach covered 
with wrecked boats and habitations. The tents 


over on the Midway were nearly all down. The © 


National was still flooded and the street in front 


of it impassable. Very few of the frame build- — 


ings, however, had been undermined. } 
The worst of the storm was over by after- 


¢ 











3 ete. | aN big Tense teder ae as 
d benefit, and five thousand et telling 





he poor families down on the Bedi ‘) ay 
do Pepi es “Say, let me run down and tell 
It will warm | their hearts, just as it does 


“ right,” Aberted pene ras guess you fe | 
oe that much, ce if 






hae on hig mission of charity. A ‘woth 
m aie py E had noticed i in the audi- 





fe a young ‘man Agee Sian b co 
| your show?” he inquired. Nak ora 
ae Frank, ee Sig has gone on a 








212 PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


Frank went inside as Randy appeared with his — ‘ 


cash box. Jolly remained where he was. Finally 
Pep came into view briskly, happy faced and ex- 
cited. | | 


“ Some one to see you—that man over there,’ 


advised Jolly. 


“Ts that so? Stranger to me. Want to see 


me?’’ he went on, approaching the stranger. 
“Tf you are Pepperill Smith. 
“ That’s my name,” vouchsafed Pep. 
“The same young man who was the guest of 
Mr. Tyson at Brenton? ” 
*‘ Guest!” retorted Pep, in high scorn. “ Oh, 


yes, I was a guest! Fired me the first time he - 


got mad.” 
* Oh, well, we all have spells of temper we are 


sorry for afterwards,” declared the man 


smoothly. 

“Ts Mr. Tyson sorry?” challenged Pep. 

“He is, for a fact. You see—well, he gave 
you some papers, cheap stocks or bonds; didn’t 
he, instead of cash for your services? He 
thought maybe you’d rather have the money. 
I’ve got a one hundred dollar bill for you. Ii 
those papers are lying around loose you might 
hand them over. to me.” 

“JT haven’t got them,” said Pep, and the man 
looked disappointed. “ Maybe my friend pre- 





: Sie ee ere 
OR OF ee ee ee pe a = = 









hit concluded his story, and santing keenly 
oe stranger, ‘ “you seem to have discovered 
m e value to the stock you peter ¢ tye 


Gi wy, a friend Smith. 
7 we 


: here Waste a time. All a cane” 
- insiste the stranger. ey Look here, let me give 
oe es Wo" hundred dollars.” re 





* mumbled the stranger oe t 
i as Prey nf 


214. PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK 


then,” observed Jolly, as the man reluctantly 
moved away. “ Pep Smith, I'll investigate that 
stock of yours with the first break of dawn. 


There’s as more to this than appearson, 


the surface.” 


‘““Wasn’t that Jack Beavers I just saw you talk- 
ing to?” inquired Hal Vincent of Frank, as the 
latter approached him on the boardwalk. 

“Yes, poor fellow,” replied Frank. “I have 
been having quite a conversation with him.” 

_“ Making a poor mouth about his misfortunes, 
I suppose?” intimated the ventriloquist. 

“Not at all, Mr. Vincent,” explained Frank 
soberly. ‘‘ He is all broken up, but more with 
gratitude towards us for saving his life the night 
of the storm than anything else. He acts and 
talks like a new man. Peter Carrington and 
Greg Grayson left him in the lurch with a lot 
of GeO. and he is trying to get on his feet 
again.” 

“In what way?” 

“Some friend has happened along and is will- 
ing to fix things up at the National. He came to 
me to say that he felt he had no right to come 
into competition with us, after owing his very 
existence to our efforts the other night.” 





BS 


\ CONCLUSION 215 


“What did you tell him, Durham?” 

“I told him to go ahead and make a man of 
himself and a success of the show, and that he 
need expect nothing but honest business rivalry 
from us.” 

“Durham,” spoke the ventriloquist with con- 
siderable feeling, ‘ you’re pure gold!” 

The bustling pianist appeared on the scene all 
smiles and serenity at that moment. 

“Where’s Pep Smith?” he pullin 

“Up at the playhouse.” 

“That so? All right. Come along, and see 


me give him the surprise of his life. You know 


I went down to Brenton to see Mr. Tyson about 
that stock? Well, I’m back—minus the stock. 
I’ve got something better. Look there.” 

Ben Jolly held a certified check before the daz- 
zled eyes of his friends. It read: “ Pay to the 
order of Peperill Smith Two Thousand Dollars.” 

“This good fortune will about turn Pep’s 
head,’ declared Frank Durham. 

“Why, those shrewd fellows will get double 
that out of it,’ said Jolly. “It seems that the 
company is on the rocks, but a reorganization is 
being attempted and it can’t be put through with- 
out a majority of the stock. Pep’s holdings fit in 
snugly, so they had to pay me my price.” 


216 (PICTURE CRUMS AT SEASWE Fis 


Pep Smith gasped as Jolly recounted all this 
over again to him in the living room back of the 
photo playhouse. ie 

“What are you going to do with all that ae 
money, Pep?” inquired Randy. 

Pep waved the precious bit of paper gaily and 
jumped to his feet with glowing eyes. 

“What am I going to do with it?” he cried. 
“And what could [ do but put it into the Wonder- 
land business fund! Why, just think of it! 
When the season is over at Seaside Park we have 
got to look for a new location; haven’t we?” 

“That's sure,’ agreed Ben Jolly. “You boys 
have made a success of the motion picture busi- 
ness so far and I want to see you keep it up.” 

And so, with both playhouses in the full tide 
of prosperity, we bid good-by to our ambitious 
young friends, to meet again in another story to 
be called: “The Movie Boys on Broadway”; or 
“The Mystery of the Missing Cash Box.” 

‘“My, but we have been lucky!” declared Randy. 

“That’s what,” added Pep. 

“Well, we’ve had to work for our wars) came 
from Frank. 


THE END 



























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